Duty and Desire
by C. L. Furlong Helion
Summary: When, years before the SWAT Kats will unintentionally visit Megalith City’s magnificent halls, duty and desire cause the paths of two different kats to cross, the future of a whole kingdom is suddenly connected directly with their fates. Story complete!
1. Part 1: Seeds of War

**TITLE: DUTY AND DESIRE - Part 1: Seeds of War**

**AUTHORS:** C. L. Furlong & Helion

**BEGUN:** October 5, 2002

**FINISHED:** October 19, 2003

**LAST REVISION:** October 30, 2003

**E-MAIL:**   
_C. L. Furlong:_ clfurlong@aeiou.pt   
_Helion:_ As a member of swatkats.com you can contact me via the site's membership list. Just go to my profile page and email or PM me.

**RATING / WARNINGS:** R for strong language and violence

**SUMMARY:** When, years before the SWAT Kats will unintentionally visit Megalith City's magnificent halls, duty and desire cause the paths of two different kats to cross, the future of a whole kingdom is suddenly connected directly with their fates.

**DISCLAIMER:** SWAT Kats and anything related to the series is the property of Hanna-Barbera. No infringement is intended and no profit is gained with this fiction.

**COMMENTS:**   
Well, chatting for so long and supporting each other for more than two years now, I guess it was a matter of time before Helion and I attempted a co-writing endeavor. Spurred by two mysteries in the show, we tossed our ideas about it in one of our mail chats and readily realized they had some potential. From there to developing them to its present state passed much time. The writing only, as you can easily see checking the dates, took an entire year. I think I can speak for both of us when I say that we're pleased with the result.   
This story is intended to have four parts and the events reported in it span at least 800 years in time, since the days of Megalith City to modern-day Megakat City, laying the foundations for the origin of two of its most strange characters.   
I have to thank my co-author for spurring me on when I was slow to write and for his small alterations on my pieces of writing ("butchering my writing" as he would call it), which only made the text much better in my humble opinion. I can say I liked very much the experience so far and I hope you SK fans out there enjoy this text. Time just to say that this fiction is unrelated to my "Final Resistence" series.   
_ C. L. Furlong_

They say stories are the children of their authors. Well, this particular child had a difficult, an elephantine, birth, with nearly 15 months passing before it came to see the light of day completely. It was also very unpredictable betimes, with an inclination towards wanderlust - just like a toddler. It outgrew us faster than we could cloth it - just like an adolescent. It spurred those nagging doubts that you might not have checked up on it intensively enough, often enough - just like a teenager.   
The thought of its three brothers and sisters following in its steps makes me go bald - just like a parent...   
Even so I am generally pleased with the development of our offspring. Many fabulous ideas, sprung from the mind of either of us, have been passed down to it, while we cleared many a more stumbling blocks from its path in joint efforts. The result is both most amazing and most complex, and I have to thank my co-author, victim of my abundant text revisions, for his stoic endurance and for the unique experience he shared with me. I am also indebted to a late (and here unnamed) writing genius for giving me inspiration and for "lending" me a handful of his masterly crafted lines.   
But now enough of my rambling speech. All left for me to say is: I hope you will enjoy this story! Here we go...   
_ Helion_

Especially in this first part of the story there are a few new characters, and their unfamiliar names might be confusing at first. We therefore added a glossary to the end of this text.

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

_The waters are calm. The air is silent. The earth is still. Since the departure of the foretold blue-clad warriors, mirth had returned to the barren lands. The crops he destroyed were replenished and my subjects were well fed and happy._

_By the stroke of the Dragonsword he was defeated. By the warriors' hands I was rescued. All of us bore testimony to the great aerial conflagration that took place in front of our flabbergasted eyes. The worm and its master's lives were finally consumed, every soul realized. For the moment, even my person. But we were all deceived... for the connection could not be undone without supporting the fee... A fee that had not yet been collected..._

_Calm are the waters. Silent is the air. Still is the earth. So they have been for four lustrums. A new generation was born out of the ashes left by he who commands the time, healthy, happy and confident in a new future. And a promising future it appeared to be. Two crops a year were harvested, the waters were once again replenished with life and the cattle herds multiplied. They were, indeed, twenty golden springs. However, some things that should have been kept in mind were buried into oblivion. The long period of peace and joy drove most of the warriors weak. The people stopped thinking about old foes and started questioning if evil would ever come back to torment them. They blindly and unwisely decided it would not._

_Calm waters, silent air, still earth... Too still... The more reassured my subjects became with the passage of time without his showing, the more concerned I grew. I saw him coming every night in my dreams, like a frigid clawed hand gripping my heart, recalling me of my duty and of the price I agreed to pay. And, I was not proven wrong… An evil that did not rest stirred and arose from the depths of infinity, a haunting memory of a faded era, and of unmatched sorrow. Unmatched... until that one night..._

_Like a thunderbolt he stroke. At dusk he came, mounted on yet a larger dragon than that which's fate had been sealed by the touch of the Dragonsword. The self-proclaimed SWAT Kats, Sir Razor and Sir T-Bone, were not there to come to our aid then. Every one was caught by surprise when the gigantic winged beast exhaled its putrid fire over the citadel. No one knew what to do. No one was prepared for yet another onslaught from this ancient evil._

_Swipe after swipe, the fetid fiery emanations swept away half of my subjects, half of my friends, in that accursed night. The air stirred with the nauseating stench of decay, with the agonizing wailing of the waning and the soul-piercing screams of those still living. The causeways were filled with fires and ashes and the charred remains of those who were fortunate enough to have died… And although time is his to rule, he did not grant us any time to mourn... So much hatred in someone I used to trust saddens my soul and torments my nights… _

_Gathering my subjects, I escorted them to the deepest catacombs of the castle, for depth and inaccessibility were the only possible defenses against such a large beast of evil. But I stayed behind myself to ensure that all of my subjects were led to safety. At daybreak only immortal death still lived above the seared grounds of Megalith City. The morning reddened skies no longer showed the color of the flaming rising aster but rather paid tribute to the gross of citizens slaughtered in the all-night attacks. It was time to carry out my desperate plan._

_I witnessed how the dragon swooped past the walls and contoured the main tower before poising on it, its enormous wings covering the entirety of the tower and part of the castle. I saw its ominous shape darken the rising reddish orb, its ghastly shadow cast upon the castle. The creature heaved out its horrifying roar before it exhaled torrent after torrent of its fetid fire over the castle and the surrounding burg. Then, amid the deafening crackling sound of the flames, I heard his vile voice calling out my name._

_"Callista! Callista, my angel! Have you finally reconsidered my offer? Callista!"_

_By magic he deceived us and by magic he was deceived. The arts of illusion allowed me to be where I was not and yet, they allowed me to once more use my wizardry and save my subjects. My image sought him out, answered his vile call. As soon as he laid his only eye on me, the dragon ceased its destructive activity. My duplicate - me - stood in the middle of the fiery ruins of my castle. Through her eyes I witnessed the destruction surrounding me and my heart pounded stronger in grief when I thought of my late subjects. Anger welled up in my heart like it never had before._

_"I WILL NEVER BE YOURS, PASTMASTER!"_

_The conflagration I summoned next was potent enough to reduce his beast to a pile of the same ashes it created and on which it fed. However... the same passed with my city, which was reduced to a pile of rubble and gravel. Only the tower he once claimed his remained erect, not without severe damage, though... The price was too high... My city was destroyed... But at least my desperate ploy worked. Faking my and all of my subjects' death, he left us alone._

_For the few of us blessed - or cursed - enough to survive the fierce attack that night the world had changed forever. With mourning hearts we shoveled graves for the ones we've lived with, the ones we've laughed with, the ones we've loved. For those we had just lost. Too many graves, and too many cries, and too often there was nothing even left for us to bury but hopes and ashes..._

_None of my subjects stayed long for the dragon had burnt and contaminated the fields with its putrescent fire... They gathered whatever puny remains they could find, scattered and fled, those horrible events burnt into their lives, into their souls, as deeply and everlastingly as they had into the erstwhile fertile soil._

_Their fate is unknown to me. Let them have found the peace of a new life to slowly forget about the grief brought upon them in the name of this sick love... Glorious Megalith City and the lives of its noble citizens were destroyed because of this morbid desire that overcame his sworn duty towards my husband and me. Not again could I risk conjuring up a tragedy upon my subjects with my presence..._

_But the struggle is yet to be finished. The menace he represents is too grand to be ignored and there are not many who can put an end to this insanity... For few are those who still remember how it all began..._

_The waters are stirring..._

_The wind is whining..._

_The earth is revolving..._

_The time has finally come..._

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**DUTY AND DESIRE**

**PART ONE – SEEDS OF WAR**

The sound of horns echoed in the valley below and reached the ears of the kats inside the fortified citadel of Megalith City. Towards the southeast, the tower guards spotted a small group of travelers. They approached slowly, as if weary of the trip, with unfurled banners waving softly in the afternoon wind. There were some hundred kats, dressed as if they were going to battle – or as though they had just fought one. At the head of the column stood three hooded riders clad in dark purple robes.

"They return!" – one of the tower guards bellowed – "The Purple Company returns! Lower the drawbridge!"

Once more, the horns' blaring filled the valley as the Purple Company marched towards glorious Megalith City. In entering the citadel, the populace came to see the warriors and cheer for them.

"So few of them homecoming…" – some said.

"The battle must have been horrific…" – others commented amid the cheering for their champions.

"Look… Not even the Mystical Knights returned untouched! Their robes are in shreds!"

The warriors and the riders simply marched in without a word. Only the tramping of feet came from the Purple Company. They penetrated Megalith Castle and the gates closed behind them with clangor. They stationed in the yard, the three riders with their faces obscured by their hoods always in the lead, followed by the archers and finally by the infantry. The riders got off their mountings and stood to attention.

Moments later, two figures appeared at the balcony overhanging the large yard. One was tall and slim, dressed in a beautiful pink dress, with long blond hair dancing in the breeze. The other was smaller in stature but considerably larger in the waist zone, dressed in turquoise garments. Both were holding their hands.

On seeing the couple, the riders placed their right fists on their chests. The sound of the quivers and spears hitting the ground filled the air for less than a second as the archers and the infantry soldiers presented their weapons and placed their right fists over their chests as well.

"LONG LIVE THE LORD AND LADY OF MEGALITH CASTLE!" – every warrior said in unison before kneeling down on one knee and leaning their heads down to their chests respectfully.

"Ah, yes, yes, long live the lord and lady, yes…" – the turquoise-clad kat babbled in a low tone. Maurice Dagobert deManx, known as King deManx XIII, ruler of Megalith Kingdom, cleared his throat and spoke out in a clear tone.

"Welcome home, brave warriors. What news do you bring from the southeastern borderlands?"

The middle rider rose from the ground and spoke.

"The border is now safe, milord. The enemies have been repelled back to their homeland with severe casualties. A garrison of two hundred soldiers was left in the stronghold of Bard's Horn to rebuild the village and keep watch on the border. The enemy, however, claimed the life of three hundred of our warriors. Victory lies with us, but the casualties of this battle were too high."

"Your brothers-in-arms shall not be forsaken, Sir Telluros. They will live forever in our hearts as heroes. We will all mourn over their loss." – the gentle voice of Queen Callista reached every warrior's ears like a soft angelic breeze. They all felt better, even less weary from the trip after she spoke.

"Your Highness is right." – Telluros said – "They shall never be forgotten."

"This deserves a feast! You have all done very well, my warriors." – deManx XIII said, moving his right arm in an ark in order to address every kat stationed in the yard – "You deserve a rest. You are dismissed."

All kats rose from the ground and knocked their heels before performing a left about turn. The remaining vanguard left first, followed by the archers and finally, when the yard was cleared, the Mystical Knights mounted their horses and abandoned the area. The last one was lingering dangerously to his right. He was about to cross the gate when he fell limply on the ground.

"Khronos!" – Callista called out. Khronos' comrades dismounted and came to aid their fallen friend.

"Khronos! Speak to me, my friend!" – Telluros said. Hydor, the third purple rider, came hastily to their side.

"Let me take him to his quarters. Give warning to the Chief Healer to meet us there anon. I'll have him ready for observation."

"It shall be done." – Telluros said as he remounted. Spurring the sides of the animal, the purple rider galloped off.

Moments later, in Khronos' quarters, the Chief Healer made an ominous discovery. While he took off the warrior's robe, he noticed a red smear dyeing his garments' right flank. He tore the fabric open in that zone and showed a bleeding wound staining the rider's gray fur in dark red.

"How did he get that wound?" – the Chief Healer asked.

"We don't know!" – Hydor commented – "He never said anything to us!"

Telluros smacked his fist against the stone wall – "Reckless youths! They think they can take on the entire world on their own!"

"Now, now, Telluros! Calm down!" – Hydor soothed – "He's just five springs younger than you. I know how you feel but right now we can't do anything about it. I'm quite convinced that Khronos knows he should have warned us of his injuries. When he wakes up we will reprimand him properly but right now we should focus our energies on trying to mend his severed body."

Telluros sighed audibly – "You are correct. The life of our comrade is far more important now than any reprimand. Besides, it isn't for me to decide. Our tutor will do what he sees fit in his case."

"How is he, my valiant warriors?" – the most gentle and melodious voice came from behind them. They spun around and found Queen Callista standing at the door of Khronos' quarters.

"He's badly injured, my Queen!" – Hydor responded, after saluting his Queen – "We will do our best to heal him."

"Where is he? Out of my way! Out of my way! Where's Khronos?" – someone called out from outside the room, climbing up the stairs.

"Pyros…" – Telluros stated in a sigh – "What is that hot-headed friend of ours doing here?"

Callista stepped aside to let the burly Pyros and the slimmer Eolos enter the quarters of the fallen purple rider.

"Where's Khronos? What happened to him?" – the burly purple rider asked, echoed by Eolos. Telluros just cleared his throat menacingly.

"Where are your manners?" – Telluros said in an icy tone.

Pyros and Eolos spun back and looked at the pink-dressed she-kat standing at the entrance of the room. Only after a few seconds did they recognize the features of their Queen. They suddenly kneeled down on the floor and saluted their monarch.

"Queen Callista, long live the Dame of Megalith Castle! I humbly beg you to forgive us our foolish actions." – Eolos spoke.

"Stand up, both. You were fretful about the health of your friend, as I am." – Callista said, lighting up their hearts.

"That, however, does not excuse them, neither of their manners nor of their duties towards Your Highness." – a respectful and venerable voice boomed over the room. They all looked to the entrance and saw the elderly form of Sir Astor, the Arch-Mage, who bowed to Callista. – "Long live the Dame of Megalith Castle!"

"Sir Astor, my most trusted advisor." – Callista greeted the elder tom back.

"Your Highness shouldn't be here. With all due respect, this is no place for a queen." – Sir Astor stated, passing Callista by.

"The welfare of my warriors is one of my matters, Sir Astor." – she retorted.

"Chief Healer?" – the Arch-Mage simply asked, changing the hand that held his retorted wood staff.

"It appears to be a spear wound. Deep, but it can't have hit any vital organ or else he would be dead by now. I'll do what I can. It's a good thing he fainted. That way, he will experience little pain."

"I'll cast a mild spell over Khronos to prevent him from waking up before you are done mending him." – the elder kat said before passing a hand over Khronos' face – "Did any of you witness how he got that wound?"

"We haven't got the slightest clue, sire." – Telluros responded.

"How many times do I have to tell you that we must look after one another? Together we stand but once divided we fall!" – the Arch-Mage proceeded towards the four warriors assembled in front of him – "You are special. You're the few selected ones that constitute the Mystical Knights. Ever since you were mere kittens, you already showed special magical skills. You were chosen for your abilities and trained accordingly. No other knight in this kingdom received the schooling you have. You must understand that you are an integral part of this kingdom's first line of defense. And you are very few! We must not afford something like this repeats!"

All purple riders leaned their heads towards their chests, humbly. Sir Astor simply sighed and looked back at the dormant form of Khronos.

"However, he's to be blamed as well. He should have warned you that he'd been wounded. He still doesn't understand that you are a unit, that you're part of something bigger…" – the elder tom said, lowering his tone as he spoke – "Now I think we'd better leave him to the capable hands of our healer. We will all leave the premises."

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Hours later, the Chief Healer finally stepped out of Khronos' quarters. He looked pale even at the red flare of the torches. The six worried kats waiting for news before the housing instantly stopped their hushed conversation and pacing and walked towards him. Telluros met him first.

"How is Khronos?" – he asked, intensely. His green eyes were nearly coruscating.

"The wound is severe. I've done everything I could…" – the middle-aged gray tom said. All the other Mystical Knights gathered closer, fearing the worst.

"He *is* going to recover, isn't he?" – Pyros asked. Every warrior present silently shared his question.

"He seems to be stable now. I've managed to stop the blood loss and, after cleaning the wound, I've cauterized it. The wound is closed but he lost too much blood. Now he must have plenty of rest in order to recover. If he survives this night, I'd wager he'll live."

Everybody sighed, clearly relieved. The Chief Healer walked away, accompanied by the Queen and the Arch-Mage. The remaining four Mystical Knights stayed behind.

"I think at least one of us should stand guard to our fallen friend." – Eolos proposed.

"I'll do the first shift." – Telluros offered.

"Very well." – Hydor said – "I'll do the second."

"And I shall take the third shift." – Pyros stated.

"Which leaves me with the fourth shift." – Eolos commented – "We'll do shifts of three sand clock turns each."

"Very well. I'll see you in the morning, brothers." – Telluros said before opening the door and entering Khronos' quarters. The other purple riders scattered to their own rooms.

Once inside, Telluros sat on a wooden stool by the window. He lighted his pipe and sucked in a generous breath, expelling the smoke dilatorily before he glanced at the sleeping form of his friend.

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"Sir Astor?" – Callista's soft voice reached the Arch-Mage's ears, who was rummaging through the pages of a thick and old book.

"My Queen?" – the elder kat asked, turning around surprised – "Why isn't Your Highness asleep yet?"

"Sleep is denied to me during these hours..."

"Because of Khronos?" – the Arch-Mage asked, softly.

"Yes. Sir Khronos is a dear friend to us. I cannot stand knowing that he is hurt."

"Fear not, milady. Khronos is a fighter. He will survive this." – Sir Astor reassured Callista.

"I hope so…"

"He is a good and strong knight. There is glory reserved for him yet."

"You have foreseen it?" – Callista asked, interested. The Arch-Mage, however, turned around and laid his hands over the studying table, lingering his torso over it. Callista noticed the change in the Arch-Mage's expression. – "What have you foreseen for my friend, Sir Astor?"

Astor sighed deeply before he answered his Queen's request – "Khronos is a special kat. I suspect he has many hidden powers in him, powers that not even I can unveil. His ultimate future is hidden from me, my Queen. I see glory in his closest future but his distant future is blank… It is as if he will be put in a crossroads of fate. It appears that, on the one hand, Khronos can choose to have a glorious future but, on the other hand, he can choose a future of darkness."

"I see… However, that is a choice we all must make." – Callista reasoned.

"Indeed it is. But I feel there's more to Khronos than meets the eye. As I said, he is strong but not just physically… His magic is stronger than the magic of any of his comrades… He still doesn't know how to use his full potential, though, so the others treat him like a younger brother. And he actually sees the others as his older brothers. I am unsure whether I should teach him to develop all his powers or not. The fact that I cannot predict his future makes me quite uneasy."

"I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, Sir Astor. Sir Khronos is a very good friend. With all my heart and soul I do believe he will never choose the path of darkness…"

"I do hope so, your Highness. I do hope so…"

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The night passed slowly. Eolos' shift was nearly over when he heard a knock at the door.

"Who goes there? Friend or foe?" – he questioned, out of habit.

"It is I."

"My Queen!" – the warrior said, surprised, as he hurried to open the door. – "My Queen, long live the Dame of Megalith Castle!"

"Good morning, Eolos. How is Khronos?" – Callista asked, entering the room and heading towards Khronos' bed. The purple rider was still asleep. His expression was peaceful and serene.

"He hasn't awaken yet and he hasn't moved since I'm here, Your Highness." – Eolos responded in his soft tone.

"He doesn't seem in pain…" – she observed.

"I'm sure he's not. Our Chief Healer is very competent…"

"I wish he gets better soon." – Callista said before she turned around to leave.

"Whatever… Your Highness orders… I shall… accomplish…" – a warm voice made itself heard.

"Khronos!" – both warrior and Queen stated, simultaneously.

"Khronos! Are you feeling well? Utter to me!" – Eolos asked.

"Do you need anything?" – Callista offered.

Khronos looked his Queen right in her green eyes – "To be able to gaze upon that which is fairest underneath the skies is the greatest gift Your Highness could ever bestow upon me."

Callista blushed a little – "Gallant as ever, I see. Welcome back, warrior!"

"Ah, here you are, my sweet!" – a known infatuated speech filled the room.

"My husband!" – Callista exclaimed happily with an irresistible smile on her lips. She went to his side and gave him a light kiss. A light shadow cast momentarily over Khronos' face.

"Ah, I see our warrior has awakened already, hey? Good, good! I'll arrange a feast, yes, he, he! I'm looking forward to seeing you there, young tom. Will you accompany us, my Queen?"

"Certainly, my King! Pass the word on to your comrades, Eolos! I'll have places of honor reserved for you!"

"We shall attend, my Queen!" – Khronos stated before speaking in a loud voice – "Long live the Lord and Lady of Megalith Castle!"

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"Fools! All of them - fools! Look how proud they walk in their decimated lines, presenting their unblemished silver breastplates..."

The ginger kat pressed his knees into the animal's flanks. The mule whinnied in protest but turned around.

"Even if there isn't time enough for anything else, there will always be time enough for them to polish their armor before homecoming. Fools!"

Soon, rider and steed were walking off, though the unhurried pace was the stubborn beast's decision rather than that of its thievish new master's.

"Let them sweat to death under their precious metal. The unyielding sun will finish the sweet task their enemies failed to accomplish."

Not once did he look back at proud Megalith City dwindling away behind him. The monumental crenellated fortress was bathed in a lustrous orange - a warm, peaceful blanket that spread out to include the surrounding meadows and forests and welcomed the Purple Company back from their victorious campaign.

"Mindless lords make mindless followers."

Further he rode, a grim smile on his face, until the fluvial roar emanating from the bottom of the gorge didn't reach his ears any longer, until even the heralding horn calls had faded to a murmur.

Only then did he stop. Still he didn't look back, but in his mind he could see the inner bailey clearly, and the scene that would greet him were he there now: the congregational cheering of the citizen waiting in rapt attention for the last warrior to pass through the gates. The warriors facing the balcony of the royal couple on bended knee, all-hailing the king...

"The fool! All of them - foo... Ooooohhh... Ouch!"

The animal, finally coming to the decision that the weight on its back was a nuisance, had neighed and kicked out. Now it was trotting over to a field of daisies, its rider thrown off.

"Arrghhhh..." - he roared, beating the dry ground with his fist. He sprang up, strode after his mount and smacked its head, hard.

"You, too!" - he shouted angrily. Spit flew from the corner of his mouth. - "You're all in cahoots with *him*!" - His hand balled into a fist and he struck out for the second time, harder than before. The mule neighed and made two jumps before it snorted disapprovingly and continued to graze.

"Why, whinny all you like, stupid ass. All of you asses will whinny once I'm through with you and your pathetic pheasant of a king. Pheasant - peasant. Peasant - pheasant. Pheasant - peasant. Ha, ha, ha..."

He began to chant. - "There was a king, a pompous king, who loved to feast all night. Loved plays and game more than his dame, for throne and fame let rounds of dice decide. 'And ho,' he cried, 'and go, me dice, and go, me dice...'

Well, indeed he died! Ha, ha, ha... Dice. Dice. Dies... Ah ha, ha, ha..." - he laughed shrilly, the abysmal fires of madness still blazing in his eyes.

"I'll have my revenge on you, king. When I return, you can feast on your demise with your joyful lady. Make her laugh at that."

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The night passed swiftly. So did the next night, and the day in between. By the hour dawn settled over the road for the second time, the solitary, vengeance-driven rider became nervous. He cursed the terrain, the Purple Company, the weather, Lord Tyrakks and his soldiers, everything...

King deManx he cursed more than the rest, except maybe his steed. The beast was slow, it was stupid and it was stubborn. If only he had stolen a *real* mount, one of those obeying black geldings with wings on its hoofs. But the theft of a mule was all he had dared, even with the pandemonium accompanying the Company's return. He wasn't exactly inconspicuous in his colorful patched garments; riding a knight's charger, he would have stuck out a mile everywhere like a pine tree in a field of nettles.

Minute after minute stretched unbearably as he searched in vain. Long since had he passed the kingdom's southeastern border stones by, had he left King deManx's realm by overgrown forest paths barely wide enough to let one rider through, intent on overtaking the defeated troops. Had he missed them? Perhaps their rearguard, even on foot, was faster than his stupid animal? The mule was repeatedly baulking lately, now that he had ridden it hard and nearly without pause for two days. Maybe he should bind it to a tree and let it starve on its arrogance... But where to get a new mount?

By midnight, much to the mule's luck and its rider's relief, he found the sign he sought: a single soldier - a scout, watching the army's backside.

"Who's there? Friend or foe?" - the scout shouted from the dark.

"Soldiers..." - the ginger kat mused, flicking the animal's ear for its latest whinny.

"Answer me."

"Neither friend nor foe." - he replied - "A friend would call you before him you would, a foe would kill you before him you could. I am but a kat shares common interest with your lord."

"Stand and unfold yourself." - the voice called forth. There was a noticeable tremor to it.

"Well spoken." - he dismounted, reached into one of his many pockets and retrieved a ball made of the same colors as his dress, ochre and crimson. He stepped in the direction the voice came from and threw it into the night. The ball rolled over the ground and unfolded into a cap as it went. It came to rest at the feet of a soldier at least two springs away from growing his first beard, its three bells ringing eerily.

The scout's eyes widened as he saw his costume - "A clown?"

"A jester! Words are my weapons, and I have just the words for your retreating lord to raise him to glory still."

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"Edgar!" - came the summoning call from somewhere inside the fabric.

Edgar, as he now knew him, pushed him into the largest tent in the camp. He was a charcoal gray mountain of a kat, all muscle and sinew. No doubt the sword dangling from his hip would be at the ready in the blink of an eye if the prisoner - if he - would do as much as cough uncalled for.

Perchance Edgar was one of Lord Tyrakks' knights. Maybe he was his learned councilor. Considering the strength and routine with which Edgar was gripping his shoulder and pressing him to his knees before the saffron-furred, sinister-looking lord, however, the jester could think of him as little more than his crony. Like the cronies he was going to get himself...

"People facing the gallows have more reasons to smile than you, trespasser." - Lord Tyrakks said - "What is your name, and what business commands you here? Speak quickly!"

"My name is jester, my lord, but you can call me anything, just don't call me often. Ha, ha..."

Before he could continue, Edgar's foot patted the jester's already sore rear not unlike his own stick had patted the mule's on several occasions - with full strength. The jester crumpled up in pain at the feet of Lord Tyrakks.

"I'll call you a madkat then..." - the noble hissed - "... to ride into our camp at the dead of night, alone and unarmed. We do not love those who follow deManx. Our hospitality for his spies excludes anything but slow strangling by their own entrails. I warn you not to play games with me, fool, lest you beseech me to stage a play with you and the ravens."

"So I shall play games with you? Why, I know just the game of cards you might find delighhhh..."

An iron fist clamped around his neck, three fingers and a thumb the size of thick branches lifting him off the ground as if he were a puppy. Edgar. The jester struggled in his grip, but all good it did him was to send the bells on his cap ringing.

Lord Tyrakks bore down on him - "I'll let Edgar here cut your bells off slowly, one after the other." - he said warningly.

"Why...? Does he... need... some... himself?" - the jester gasped out.

"Edgar!"

The brute dropped him on the one-word command and drew steel.

"If to this end I must come..." - the jester spoke from the ground, his right hand at his throat - "... then so must you!"

"Halt!" - the lord beckoned Edgar - "This is your very last chance, jester. Speak!"

"How many kats are out there in the camp? One gross, where formerly had been five? Your *cramp* indeed!" - the jester spat, knowing the truth of his words - "A battalion was sent out, no more than a company returns. Words of failure travel fast. His best vassal yet you might be, but when he lays eyes on this pitiable morsel of an army in a fortnight, your liege will not be pleased with you in the slightest any more."

"I am not to blame! No one could have defeated those warlock demons! They befuddled my soldiers so their armed forces could engage us most strangely. None could have done better than I, ridding the world of three hundred of their number."

The jester smiled upon seeing Lord Tyrakks becoming defensive. - "Your noble heart will miss your noble tongue once it's chopped off together with your head. Kings do as kings please. I must know, for I was played foulest by a king myself..."

"King deManx..." - Lord Tyrakks concluded.

"The very same. He discarded me, discharged me, and discredited me publicly."

"I wonder why that is." - Lord Tyrakks asked wryly - "I reckon you've been disrespectful to your liege, or too respectful to his lady? Been deceitful? Thievish? Mocking? Lying? Maybe you just were not funny..."

"Nooot funneeeee!" - roared the jester enraged. Edgar chuckled dumbly. - "I want my revenge! I want to see his head on a pike! I want him to know it was I who overthrew him!"

"And how are you going to achieve that?" - asked Lord Tyrakks.

"You are going to help me."

"*I*! You must be crazy!"

"Crazy…" - echoed the jester.

"Why should I help you, fool?" 

"Because you're by one head better off taking fool advice than you are without." - And he laughed insanely - "By new moon, you can either have returned home to accept the punishment for your failure, or you can send message to your king from within the stronghold of Megalith City, telling him that you have taken the enemy's heart in one single stroke of genius with nothing more than a handful of your most loyal soldiers..."

There was a steely glimmer in Tyrakks' eyes telling the jester that he had him in his pocket... 

"What miracle would get us close to and into the castle unseen?" - he enquired with poorly feigned indifference.

"There was an entrance to the castle that led from the wine cellars into the gorge and on steep and narrow paths further to a small plateau near the river's edge five or six furlongs to the east. It was used for the water trade decades ago. When the water level dropped too low for river transportation, the entrance itself fell into oblivion, but it still exists, closed but unguarded, and only I know of it. It will bring ten, maybe twelve kats into the castle undetected. I can show you.

Now deManx, being the pheasant king he is, will not miss the opportunity to feast the Purple Company's return. The bigger the revels, the better. Hence - and I'd stake me life upon't - he'll feast on the eve of the autumn equinox. That night, soldiers will be drunk with mead, lazy because of the banquet and victory. Their watch will be weak, and I know just the leaks in their guard to get you inside the city's inner ring unhindered."

"What about the fiendish magicians?"

"They'll surely be guests of honor at the feast, as engaged in songs and wine as anybody else. Drunk, they aren't much of a hindrance, I'd wager, and the moment of surprise lies with you. Besides, they're only six in number, one of them as weathered as the oldest oak..."

"Five in number," - Edgar spoke. The jester blinked surprised. He had thought the brute must be mute. - "Remember Oswick claimed he killed one of them with a spear, my lord. The Grey Devil..."

"Grey? That'd be Sir Khronos!" - the jester stated eagerly - "One of the Mystical Knights indeed, maybe the most malicious. Your soldier can boast himself on having killed a worthy enemy!"

"He cannot." - Lord Tyrakks barked - "For that fight was the last deed my cousin ever partook in in his life. Within an hour afterwards, he withered away most unnaturally, in shrieks of pain. He who killed him thus evilly calls himself a knight, you say?" - He growled. - "I say he's nothing but a sanguinary sorcerer! If he is still alive despite all odds, I swear I will disembowel him on his own sword."

The jester grinned wickedly. - "Does this mean we have a deal?"

The commanding officer of the army just gave him that hard look again. - "You said you'd stake your life upon your plan, traitor...

And you do... You do!"

The jester launched into another fit of maniacal laughter. This time, Lord Tyrakks joined him.

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The marching of five suns marked the passage of time. As the autumn equinox drew nearer, the preparations for the feast were steadily reaching their completion. King deManx grew ever more excited.

"This must be a memorable occasion. Everyone should remember it for ages! Our victory at Bard's Horn will surely put an end to those petty brawls Darkwater has against me!" – the ruler of Megalith City said as he walked through the royal gardens alongside Sir Astor.

"Things may not turn out to run as smoothly as you are foretelling, milord. Darkwater…"

"Is defeated! He played his last card and was utterly humiliated at Bard's Horn! Emilio of Darkwater's nothing but a clown, a power-hungry king that got strangled by his own dark ideals!"

"How I wish I were as calm and assured as my liege…"

"Do not fret, my dear friend! I know I am correct! Hmm… I just had an idea!" – deManx said as he stroked his chin.

"And what may that be, milord?"

"I think we ought to arrange a parade…"

Sir Astor bowed his head respectfully, knowing the final tone in King deManx's voice too well to stir the conversation back to the matter of King Darkwater. He let the king dwell on the festival activities, adding his own suggestions and advice concerning security to the royal monologue betimes, but his worries had not ceased with his liege's assurances.

His eyes wandered over the maple trees with their flaming red and yellow tops and, ignoring the five-pointed leaves that were picked from their summer residence and borne to the earth on a gentle autumnal breeze, repeatedly came to rest on the tower at the far western end of the inner bailey.

If Darkwater still had a card to play, there very likely was the only thing to trump it.

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Wanderers from distant lands who set their eyes on the stronghold of Megalith for the first time were as one awed by the monumental structure at the far western end of the inner bailey. The whole upper half of the jet-black tower loomed over the castle and could be seen from a league afar, as it was not only the largest building on these fortified grounds, but also in the land.

What was so striking about it was not only its size alone. At the tower top, before a blood red face, the hands of a magnificent mechanic clock announced the time. It had been a present to the late king, King deManx XII, from one of his continental trading partners, and its midnight chime was legendary. The people of Megalith City still stuck to their sundials and sand clocks, but not so much out of tradition than for the fact that there was such craftsmanship and artful beauty in the making of this clock that no copy had ever been successfully made.

The Tower itself - for so it was often simply called: the Tower - dated back to the earliest times of Megalith City. The fitting in of the clock under the roof thirty-two years ago was just the latest larger alteration it had experienced. Recurrently fortified in times of war, repaired, extended and – again – reinforced in years of peace, it had now reached its final height and although it was still years from where the solidity of its walls would sadly come to the test, their strength was far above that of its neighboring structures.

However, when he watched the tower, it wasn't the ashlar walls Sir Astor had in mind but rather what they housed. The clock tower was the base of the Mystical Knights; it accommodated their training rooms as well as the priceless treasure of knowledge, enclosed in tomes and stacked in sheets of vellum in rows of shelves inside an extensive library. It also had a room with sickbeds to cure the wounded.

In case of another attack by Emilio of Darkwater's soldiers, the Mystical Knights were their last best hope for victory. But the power to draw magic had faded throughout the recent century. Now, the tower could even have been used as the knights' barracks, so far had their numbers diminished over the last generations. Only seven kats were able to wield magic more than a trickle. Six of them had been instructed in its uses inside the tower no sooner than they had been out of their cradles, trained in the line of duty for the king of Megalith Kingdom.

Sir Astor was one of these six, raised a Mystical Knight some sixty years ago. Now the obligation to learn the others its ways was his. Their training was nowhere near completed, especially not that of the younger knights, like Sir Khronos, but the Arch Mage feared that Megalith Kingdom would need them back in action again sooner than he wished.

Two hundred paces away, it was just Sir Khronos who, after a weeklong bed rest, couldn't wait to get back to action…

"Easy, my friend! Lean on my shoulder!" – Telluros said to Khronos, who just dismissed his friend's help with a gesture.

"I am not crippled, Telluros! It is merely a spear wound!" – he said, covering the side of his torso with his hand.

"I utterly concur! It is a spear wound, indeed… A wound that nearly claimed your life!"

A small grin flourished on Khronos's face – "Yes, but my foe met his ultimate fate whereas I still breathe…"

"Only barely, I must emphasize! Why have you not given warning that you had been injured in battle?"

"What good would it have done? The battle was over, anyway! Our foes were withdrawing!"

"Then you were merely careless!" – Telluros bawled – "That is even worse than hiding your injuries from us."

Telluros stepped face to face with Khronos – "We are a unity! A unity, Khronos! Can you not see it? We look after one another! We do not abandon each other to their fate!"

"I know that!" – Khronos exclaimed, looking away from Telluros' visage – "It's just…"

"You are as good as any of us, Khronos! Your loyalty to the cause we stand for is unquestionable, your powers amazing and your wisdom considerable. Why do you insist in wearing that veil in front of your eyes? Because you are the youngest of us? By the Sacred Kats, that is preposterous!"

"Do you really mean the words you have just spoken?"

"I do not speak unless I mean what I say, my good friend!"

"I thank thee for thy support… Willst thou stand by me when I meet Sir Astor?"

"You can rely on me…" – Telluros said as he helped the gray-furred tom out of his quarters.

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Meanwhile, elsewhere in Megalith Kingdom, a small band comprised of ten kats made their way through the rocky outcrops of the eastern lowlands. Though the frigid claw of winter was approaching, the weather the small company was experiencing remembered more that of mid summer. It was the last spurt of heat before everything turned snow white. High in the air, soaring on the upstream hot air drafts, a falcon let out a high-pitched scream.

Covering his forehead in order to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight, Lord Tyrakks saw the ominous winged shape against a cloudless sky as it retracted its wings and dived headfirst into some unseen prey. He then proceeded to gape at the few surrounding low hills, distorted by the heat waves. A drop of perspiration dripped from his forehead and got lost on the filthy clothes the warlord was wearing.

"Bloody heat…" – he swore in a low tone, ending with a hissing sound of exasperation.

"I'd urge you to convince your men to travel with all haste!" – the madkat said to Tyrakks – "Tomorrow will be autumn equinox eve. We should not - we cannot – linger!"

"What?" – Sir Anthros's cry in disbelief was merely one of many.

"How far are we from that accursed entrance?" – Tyrakks asked. He too was dog-tired. He could understand his men, but he inwardly cursed at their tactical short-sightedness.

"Less than a day of journey. We'll have reached the cave by tomorrow morning. Then you can all rest there until the strike. We can only strike late at night, after the meat and ale have done most of the work for us. Even if you sleep all day, we'll still have plenty of time to make last hour adjustments to our plans… Besides, you'll be fresh and relaxed. Megalith Castle will be ripe for the taking then…" – the jester explained. He looked to Tyrakks and then to the rest of the warriors.

"The buffoon is right… We go on." – Tyrakks commanded.

Before even one kat had the chance to march another meter, Sir Anthros complained again – "Why the bloody hell do we have to wear these stinking clothes?"

Lord Tyrakks exhaled on the sly before addressing Anthros - "I already explained… We will draw less attention to ourselves if we dress like peasants."

"But I am not a peasant!" – Anthros replied – "I belong to the Royal Family by…" – he was cut off in mid-sentence by Lord Tyrakks' exasperated roar.

"You belong as much to the royal family of Darkwater as a filthy mare does! Now be silent and get your whimpering hide moving or I shall have your head on a tray!"

"No one talks to me like that!" – Anthros said as his right hand cupped his sword and the other poised forcefully on Lord Tyrakks' shoulder – "I will…"

A red spray filled the air momentarily when Edgar's black blade swished in a shiny ark to cut Anthros's head off, which rolled downhill helplessly.

"I am sick of your endless struggle for power, Anthros… Especially at the cost of losing mine…" – Lord Tyrakks muttered. The jester, who was in the lead of the group, merely grinned sardonically as he beheld the feud.

"Very good, *milord*… Now we have one chance less to overthrow deManx!" – the jester spoke, only to be met with Lord Tyrakks most fearsome grudge.

"Say but a little more, fool, and I will have you eat horse dung!"

The jester hushed and resumed walking.

When the others were slow to follow, Edgar grunted, one hand cupping the hilt of his enormous black sword while cleaning the gory blade on a small piece of fabric with his other hand. The weapon remained ominously out of its sheath. Malthus, another of Lord Tyrakks' companions, gulped silently and set into motion, as did the rest of the group, proceeding silently due west. Lord Tyrakks sighed and wiped the perspiration off his forehead before pressing on.

"Bloody heat indeed…"

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The day of the feast finally arrived. Megalith City seemed to rejuvenate with the joyful event. Although the feast was meant only for the noble and the clergy, all of the villagers joined the festivities in their own way. In the village, red and yellow tapestries, carefully embroidered during the long and cold nights of winter, some representing battle scenes, others presenting the royal crest, were hung from the windows in respectful sign for their sovereigns. The streets were mostly clean and the people wore their best garments, most of them meant for the weekly mass.

In the castle, flags and banners were unfurled and quickly caught height in the morning breeze. Tapestries also hung from the main windows of the palace. In the center of the largest yard, where the warriors used to practice, there was a pole from which radiated many colorful bands that were attached to the neighboring buildings, giving the square the impression of a multicolored tent roof. In the yard itself there were the kingdom's troops, wearing their best ceremonial light armors. The few rays of sun that penetrated through the colorful rooftop made their armors and weapons glitter briefly.

In the balcony overhanging the yard, both deManx and Callista stared down at their troops, who had been serving them so well for so many years, reviewing them. With an approving nod of the head, deManx ordered the parade to begin.

For the first half of the day, the troops strode throughout the main arteries of Megalith City. The air vibrated with the sound of trumpets, drums and feet as the infantry marched and the riders rode their steeds, noses held high in pride and dignity.

The populace cheered for them, either filling the sides of the streets or hurling flower petals from the first floor windows as the warriors trampled by. For the ones who fought at Bard's Horn, this was pure bliss, to be acclaimed as heroes and be showered in flower petals.

From the highest tower in Megalith City, the Arch Mage, Sir Astor, surveyed the scene. He stroked his long white beard. His face bore the lines of many battles, although his were quite different from those the soldiers below had fought. In fact, weren't it for his Mystical Knights, perhaps Darkwater would have already annexed Megalith Kingdom to his…

"Tell me what troubles you, master!" – Telluros asked, softly. The Arch Mage turned around slowly, leaving the festive scene behind. If the noiseless entry of the young knight had surprised him, it didn't show in his stance or expression.

The aging kat crossed the room that was his study and retrieved a dust-filled book from the top of a sizeable bookshelf and set it over the table, opening it up slightly at the middle. Only then did the elder speak.

"I do not share the king's belief that Darkwater is ultimately defeated. He has turned his greedy eye on Megalith Kingdom for so long the sight has poisoned him with unceasing hunger for it." – He lifted his gaze and looked the young tom right in the eyes – "He will attack again. It's just a feeling I have, but seldom did I perceive a stronger feeling… Something is definitely and terribly wrong. Darkwater will attack again! Megalith City will need the Mystical Knights before the end, Telluros!"

"Megalith City will not fall. Not while I and my brothers still have strength left."

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"What did I tell you?" – the madkat stated, triumphantly – "Here is the cave!"

The narrow cliff path they took had taken its toll on the warriors. They were exhausted. They couldn't care less whether the jester was right or not, whether he was leading them to victory or into entrapment. They just wanted to rest. Even Tyrakks got past the mad jester and entered the cool cavern. Well, to call it a cavern was an overstatement. It was merely a shelter in the rock, just large enough to accommodate the seven warriors, Tyrakks and the madkat. In the farthest wall of the shelter there was a large crack that, accordingly to the mad jester, led to the castle cellars.

"In bygone times, the barrels were uploaded from the river down there in these contraptions here." – he pointed to the remains of two "Y" shaped poles, each one of them had a system of three wood pulleys – "You notice the system they used? Intriguing! Whoever devised it must have figured out that the barrels were lifted more easily this way…"

"SHUT UP!" – Tyrakks growled – "WE'RE TRYING TO SLEEP!"

The insane buffoon just shrugged and moments later he too lay down on the cold rock and closed his eyes. A twisted grin began to spread on his face.

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Night came, descending slowly over the fortified burg. Stars started glittering, fine holes in the tight dark mesh in which her dress was woven, letting the light beyond glimmer and borrow a gray tinge to the darkness that was her garb. Night settled then, quiet and relentlessly.

Torches were lit everywhere throughout the city. In the central plaza, a large bonfire was raging and nearly every peasant and bourgeois encircled it, dancing and jumping and singing.

In the castle, in the large yard, the tent roof gave way to a roaring fire, fueled by a considerable cedar log. The perfumed billows filled the yard in which three tables, arranged to form a sizeable U, were displayed. Large roasted wild boars, birds, hares, variable vegetables and fruits and casks – endless casks of wine and ale – brought from the large tons in the royal cellars crammed the large table.

The music of mandolins, drums and flutes filled the air, subduing the animalistic sounds of the eatery, the clink of metal goblets and the sounds of the inner flames' merry crackle.

DeManx sat in the middle of the short end of the U, with his wife and queen by his side. Sir Astor, Telluros and Khronos sat next to the king whereas Eolos, Pyros and Hydor sat to Callista's right. The rest of the nobles and the clergy sat to the sides, at the adjoining tables.

Granted, eating was indeed what those people did best but there were pauses between the snacks for some cultural interludes, during which rimes and rigmaroles were read, songs were performed and games were played. During the snacks time, talk always ensued. Soon, the order of the places was thoroughly messed up. King deManx left his queen in the capable hands of her chambermaids and was almost immediately surrounded by some of the noblemen of his court, discussing business. Although he was the king and had many kats at his service for that kind of duty, deManx had inherited a special nose for business and would have himself dealing directly rather than having some third party doing it for himself. Soon enough, Lady Callista announced her departure to her chambers. The feast lost much of its luster when she disappeared beyond the gates.

Seated somewhat more apart from the remaining guests, Khronos followed her by the corner of his eye while he sipped a bit of wine from his goblet. He then looked to the moonless skies. Whatever he was thinking, whatever he was feeling could not be perceived by the looks displayed in his mien.

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"What time is it, fool?" – Tyrakks' disgruntled question shot through the small space. The warlord looked outside and, barely outlined against the moonless sky, he saw the shape of the insane buffoon. His eyes were gleaming in bright green, as would a demon's. A white toothy grin appeared beneath them. Tyrakks instinctively reached for his sword. The feeling of the cold steel comforted him. – "Fool?"

"It is I, do not fret." – he leaned his head to the side, looking amused – "Did I perchance frighten you? There is no need for cupping your sword, milord."

"Your eyes are glowing…" – Tyrakks muttered.

"Like the eyes of all those who seek vengeance…" – the jester responded.

"Like the eyes of one who's been caught by that siren's call named madness…" – the warlord thought, getting up – "You still have not answered my question."

"It is a little after nightfall. The sun set about two sand clock turns ago. The feast has started in the meantime. You can hear the music and the talk." – he calmly filled the warlord in as he went to the small crest overhanging the very diminished river flowing below and contemplated the dark skies. Tyrakks joined him moments later.

The lord sucked in a deep breath of the cool and fresh canyon air - "The night is perfect for a strike. Only the stars glitter above our heads."

"You will not have to sneak your way into the castle. It matters little if there is a moonless sky or a full moon illuminating the entire castle out there."

"You know no more about strategy than a rock does. Cover of darkness is always an advantage over the enemy." – Tyrakks stepped back into the exiguous space of the cavern – "Gather around, all!" – he commanded his small band – "You too, fool."

"What do you want?" – the jester asked, displeased to be amid that bunch of smelly toms. The glow in his eyes had, meanwhile faded away to a normal level for a kat.

"First some more information. How far is it to deManx? He's all that matters!"

"Behind that crack there is a set of stairs that will take us to a trapdoor in the floor of the royal wine cellars. However, the former wooden door was replaced by a large slab of solid rock. We will need a great deal of strength to set it loose. There aren't many places to hide once we're in the cellars. From there, there are a few stairs running up a narrow corridor that will take you to the base of the tower. You'll have two choices. Either you attack directly in the yard, which is located about fifty meters to the south..."

"Or?" – asked Tyrakks, who didn't like the idea of a direct, headless attack at all.

"Or you climb up the tower for an arrow attack. The top of the tower grants access to a beautiful ornamental frieze that runs around the entire length of the royal manor's façade. It is narrow, but large enough to let a kat pass; in front of the yard it gets large enough even for two kats. Act with stealth and you'll have a perfect shot at deManx from up there."

"We shall attack on two fronts, then. I shall lead you, Glorivald, and you, Marcus, up the tower and onto the frieze while Edgar will lead the rest of you into the yard. Yes, you too, jester, so shut up!" – the jester grudgingly closed his mouth again – "You will sneak your way through the yard. Try to avoid unfriendly gazes. Take any cover you can find and don't kill anybody unless it is absolutely necessary. Soldiers will get suspicious if their comrades fail to return to their duties and missing servants or citizens will draw attention to you like a dead horse draws the flies. Station near the gates of the royal residence and hide there. Got that?"

Eight heads bobbed up and down but Tyrakks looked only at Edgar. The husky warrior nodded slowly, agreement shining in his eyes.

"Good. I, Marcus and Glorivald will take up positions on the frieze and fire our arrows at deManx. Is there any signal we could use to coordinate our attack, fool?"

The jester looked outside, into the darkness of the gorge – "It's still early. If you don't waste any further time arguing, you can be positioned and prepared before midnight. At midnight, you will hear the tower clock chime. Twelve strikes. You could strike deManx's twelve then, too. Hehe…"

Lord Tyrakks looked at the jester acidly, but had to agree it was a good plan - "We'll strike at midnight then - on the twelfth chime. If we fail in acquiring our quarry, deManx will surely be led your way, towards the palace, towards safety. You will make them realize how much in error they are. In any case, you will only attack after we had our shot at deManx. Whether we fail or succeed in killing our prey, you will only charge after that. Understood?"

"But, sire… Why don't we attack first? It would create confusion and in confusion there is opportunity…" – Malthus pointed out but was cut in mid-sentence by Tyrakks.

"Aye, you would create confusion… And perhaps enough time for our target to become a moving blank! Perhaps a drunkenly wobbling moving target but a moving target nonetheless. Nay! We strike first. Only then you shall have your carnage… The plans are set. You all know your roles in this strike. May the good fortune be with us all. The seeds of war are sown!"

"May the darkness avail me and my dark desires!" – the jester thought, his eyes acquiring a stronger greenish glow as he balled his fists.

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Squire Simon made sure the simpering smile was plastered on his face until he was a good distance away from deRelieu, but once half the yard lay between them he dropped his masquerade. A dire scowl now showed on his face as he wished the noble a dispossessed, friend- and penniless future. DeRelieu was a pain in the ass under normal circumstances. Drunk he was like syphilis – insufferable.

In preparation for the feast, deManx's best spirits had been carried from the royal wine cellars into the serving rooms of buildings closest to the yard. Barrels of several burgundy wines, dry Ost Arden wine, Lyncaem Red, even ale out of Varryn. That was done both to keep the nobles happy and the servants' routes short, as the wine cellars were too far away to walk there and back again the whole night long without tiring.

But deRelieu didn't like these cheap, watery brews, as he called them. Only red wine from Hanro would do for the duke and his drinking companions. And Simon was to be the squire who "had better go and get them a cask of that unless he wanted his hide whipped raw"...

Simon checked the dancing flame of his candle for a last time before he opened the door and stepped into the tower, following the dark staircase that wound into the deep. He wouldn't even have time enough to taste a mouthful of the king's best wines himself, because deRelieu was checking the time like a hawk, and woe to him if he appeared lazy.

"If that wine is so strong I'm sure you won't notice a little extra in it!" – Simon mused loudly about spitting into deRelieu's brewage as he reached the end of the stairs. 

Determinedly he walked over to the place where the Hanro was stored and put the candlestick onto a large wine barrel while he groped for a flagon. The glimmer of the candle's flame shone eerily in the semi-darkness of the cellars. Shadows hushed over the walls, giving Simon the false impression of company. There in the corner it looked as if someone...

"Sacred Kats...!"

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"Ah! It's been quite a while since last I drank such a fine ale!" – Pyros stated, sighing out pleased.

"According to your own words, it was about five minutes ago that you had that last fine ale…" – Hydor commented with the shade of a mocking grin on his lips.

"So long ago? Sacred Kats, time flies when you're enjoying yourself…" – the burly warrior said, filling up another goblet – "TO THE KING!"

"Aye, to the King!" – Eolos spoke.

"I'll drink to that! To the King!" – Hydor corroborated.

Telluros smiled at them as he raised his cup and repeated the same toast. After emptying his goblet, he grabbed the wine carafe to fill it up again and walked towards Khronos, who was sitting somewhat apart, smoking. He sat down beside his comrade.

"You seem to be enjoying the feast." – Khronos stated before sucking in a generous portion of smoke and letting it all out slowly.

"Unlike you. What ails you?" – Telluros asked as he passed an arm over Khronos' shoulders and shook the gray tom a bit.

"Nothing…"

"I know you better than that, old friend. You may be able to hide your feelings from everyone but not from me… I know what troubles you tonight."

Khronos looked straight into Telluros' eyes. A flicker of fright flashed ever so rapidly across his own face. His heartbeat accelerated. How could he know that…

"I fear the same…" – Telluros continued – "The castle is vulnerable tonight. Even the guard on the towers has been lightened."

The gray knight's shoulders sagged ever so slightly. Were he alone he'd have sighed in relief.

"Even the Dark Mistress is against us tonight." – Telluros continued, looking up to the black moonless skies.

"Aye, there is little silver in her murky dress tonight… Not enough to spot a small offensive party, anyway…" – Khronos agreed, giving voice to the other tom's thoughts.

"Perhaps we're just allowing ourselves to be carried away by our own training. Remember how we were taught to be on our guard at all times?" - Telluros asked.

Khronos softly patted the side of his torso – "I guess I learned that the hard way…"

Telluros chuckled and raised his cup – "To a successful recovery, my friend!"

Khronos reached for his chalice and held it high as well. After the strong clink of metal against metal was heard, they gulped down the spirits inside each cup in one drought.

"Such a fine wine…" – Khronos sighed in pleasure, allowing himself a moment of rest from his worries.

"I doubt it Pyros would agree. Unless you forcibly separate him from his supply of Varryn ale, of course..."

Khronos laughed quietly. He refilled his goblet with wine and sipped a bit from it, letting it stay in his mouth for a while, feeling the alcohol sting and pleasure his tonsils. The festive sounds flooded the yard and spilled out to the streets surrounding the castle. The billowing clouds of perfumed smoke, the meat, the sound and the wine all contributed to lighten his mood. He observed the remaining guests and gave out one of his rare warm smiles. He began truly enjoying himself.

Suddenly, everything changed. A strong, yet totally unexpected feeling overthrew Khronos, making him gasp and double over ever so slightly as if he received a blow to his gut. The feeling came so suddenly he dropped the metal cup, which fell on the floor with a loud metallic sound before slowly rolling away from him. The gray tom watched as the crimson pool of wine spread at his feet.

"What was that?" – he muttered. He then looked at Telluros with an inquiring gaze.

"You felt it too?" – the brown-furred tom asked back. Meanwhile, the aging form of Sir Astor stepped away from the festive frenzy and marched over to them. His face bore the lines of preoccupation all over it.

"Something evil happened." – the Arch Mage spoke – "Somewhere in our vicinity, although I cannot say exactly where..."

"What's happening here?" – Pyros asked as he walked towards the three mages – "The faces you're making could strike terror even into Darkwater himself!"

"We must act quickly if we want to prevent further harm. Gather Hydor and Eolos." – Sir Astor ordered. Pyros acknowledged and left without questioning.

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"Well done, my warriors. Resistance must be terminated on sight!" – Tyrakks complimented his companions, some of which were cleaning their swords. One of them cleaned a spiked iron rod.

"What do we do now?" – Glorivald asked.

"Nothing has changed! You all know what to do! Blow out the candle and leave this mess to the darkness."

Blackness blanketed the cellars by the time the nine scurried up the stairs. Once they reached the door on the ground floor, Tyrakks peered outside. The path was clear and dark. He silently praised the Sacred Kats for withdrawing the nocturnal aster's light.

"Go now. And be swift but stealthy! This whole operation depends on absolute secrecy!" – Tyrakks ordered. His warriors passed him by, following the lead of the gray mountain named Edgar. Last of all scurrying off was the jester. Tyrakks grabbed his right arm, making him stop.

"Remember you said you'd stake your life upon your plan, buffoon… And I reiterate that you do…" – Tyrakks sneered. The jester glared back at the warlord. With a jerk he loosened his arm and followed the others. The warlord watched them merge with the darkness before addressing Glorivald and Marcus. – "Let's go."

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By the time Pyros, Hydor and Eolos had gathered around Sir Astor, Khronos and Telluros, they already knew something terribly wrong was under way. Their master's mien and orders spoke volumes about the seriousness of the situation.

"I fear the guard has been breached. Something terrible happened nearby. We may all be in grave peril." – Sir Astor briefed them all.

They looked around. The other guests were completely unaware of the impending danger and the spirits and that night's feeding frenzy had already taken care of them all. The soldiers were totally incapable of defending their own purses, let alone the castle or their king. Even the high priest seemed as if he had had a close encounter with the Sacred Kats. The king was no better himself.

"We're on our own, men." – Sir Astor darkly added, looking from one side to the other – "Be on your guard. The enemy still has the advantage of surprise."

Telluros grinded his teeth as he too looked from one side to the other discreetly. They knew something had been set in motion but could do nothing about it while they didn't figure out where. They were helpless.

Precious time trickled away until help came in the form of a blabbering, irritated raised voice - "Where the hell is that bloody squire with our wine? He's been gone for twenty minutes already!" – one of the noble kats shouted, obviously inebriated by alcohol.

Telluros stopped for a moment and then looked in the direction of the cellars, pondering. Then he turned to his comrades.

"They're in the cellars! They're in the royal wine cellars! The squires normally don't take more than eight to ten minutes to go in there and get back. Twenty minutes is far too long." – he explained.

"You may be right." – Eolos spoke – "Even drunk, the squires wouldn't dare defy the wrath of their lords!"

"Let's go!" – Telluros commanded as he guided his warriors out of the yard.

"Khronos and I will stay and protect his majesty. Good luck." – Sir Astor said.

"Why have you impeded me from going with them? I am eager for some action!" – the gray-furred tom asked sharply as he watched his four comrades all but run for the cellars. Despite his best attempts he was unable to hide the tone of anger completely from his voice.

"The wound you carry is still not fully healed. I want you close to me while you're not completely recuperated. Now we must mingle with the others and keep our eyes peeled for anything unusual."

With a sigh of resignation, Khronos complied and followed his master.

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With a gesture, Edgar ordered the kats at his command to come forth. They slid along the street quietly as shadows and hid behind or underneath the chariots and baskets that crammed the sides of the causeway. They rapidly covered the fifty meters separating the tower and the entrance to the yard that way and hid behind a large turned wagon.

Edgar peered out and was about to order his kats forth when he saw four toms leaving the feast yard in a hurry. As they fled past him he recognized them as the Mystical Knights. A smile flourished on his lips as he informed his comrades.

"Those were the Mystical Knights. Oswick was right, he really did kill one of them. Kats Beneath eat the wretched warlock; Sacred Kats welcome our fallen friend…"

"Why would they flash by us?" – Leitner queried.

"I don't know but I don't care either. This is our cue! If we're going to penetrate the yard, we won't have a better chance than now that those conjurers are away."

"I can think of other things I'd like to penetrate better…" – Julius said, giving his comrades a dirty look. A quiet chuckle of approval ravaged everyone.

"I don't think anyone here cares about your mother or your cattle, Julius! Now if you just shut up and follow orders we'll all be better off. Move on, you miserable whoresons!" – Edgar incited them.

In they went. Their trial by fire would be precisely the entrance. If they were spotted entering the yard, all would be lost. At least they had gotten rid of those smelly old peasant clothes. They weren't in their best ceremonial garbs but they could be taken for guards if not for the fact that they were wearing King Darkwater's uniforms. It was a pity that they hadn't found a patrol of guards to steal their uniforms. It would have been much easier that way…

Nevertheless, hunching behind empty casks, dented metal shields and other artifacts that lay around the yard, they managed to reach the side arcades. Once there, they converged on the farthest point, huddling there where there were permanent shadows.

"Are all present?" – Edgar asked on the sly.

"All present and accounted for." – Malthus replied.

"Good…" He observed the surroundings: the arcade in front of him, the yard to his left, and – in the wall of the yard just north-west of them - the gates to the palace. He studied them for a while, realizing those doors were guarded but remained mostly buried in shadows. He then proceeded to study the arcade in front of him. Trailing the whole span of the yard and separated from it by a low wall about half a meter high, the arcade was gloomy and poorly illuminated.

"Good…" – he repeated - "Follow me!"

They crawled the entire length of the arcade. When they got to a door where the servants came in and out bringing food and taking out the remains, Edgar ordered Phileas to come with him. Like Edgar, Phileas was also well built but was shorter than his comrade, which made him look fat rather than muscled. Many enemies met their doom facing Phileas exactly because of such misjudgments. Edgar and Phileas pressed themselves against the shaded wall. Edgar peered inside. The room was empty. He ordered Phileas to the other side, which the other warrior did without hesitation.

Keeping a watchful eye in the room, Edgar ordered his men to pass to the other side one at a time. Malthus and Leitner had already passed when someone strode into the room. Edgar pressed himself harder against the wall and, with a gesture, ordered Julius and the fool to stay put. The squire walked through the room and stepped outside. As soon as he did it, two strong arms wrapped around his neck and, with a gesture learned out of years of practice, swiftly twisted the tom's head. The sound was like that of a dry twig snapping. The roar of the festivities easily subdued it. The unfortunate squire never even felt what happened to him.

"Mateo?" – came suddenly the shout from deep within the house.

Footsteps were growing louder, announcing the imminent arrival of more kats. The heartbeat of each of the invaders accelerated – this was exactly what they had feared. The missing of one servant might go unnoticed, but if they had to subdue half of the household minions or even a chamberlain, then their detection would only be a matter of minutes.

The jester reacted first. He pushed past Julius and stepped inside, retrieved the bell cap from his pocket, unfolded and donned it.

"Wait!" - hissed Edgar – "What are you doing?"

"Following Tyrakks' order to stake my life upon his plan" – the jester whispered in return. Behind his back he motioned for his accomplices to disappear outside while he waited for the voices to take on shape.

Edgar had to swallow his tongue so as not to ask the mad jester loudly further about what he was planning. Instead he silently ordered Julius to get over to their little crowd, quick, and together with Phileas they carried the corpse to a shaded area a good distance away from the door, where they dropped it silently.

He told his men to keep hidden there and sneaked back, his hand on the hilt of his sword. He reached the door and risked an eye watching the encounter inside for a second. He could see two servants in the room with the jester before he withdrew his head again. Warily he listened in on their conversation.

"The last time I looked into a mirror, I was the jester! But if you mean that servant that left this house a minute ago, I guess he was headed for the yard. They all do."

"The jester? I thought the king had fired you?"

"With the largest feast of all coming up, the king would show little vision if he fired his best merry zany." – the jester's voice held only the slightest trace of anger and even Edgar wouldn't have noticed it, hadn't he spent the last days in the company of the fool – "Who'd be there to entertain the king and all his gallant friends tonight, I ask you."

"No one, I assume?"

Edgar didn't have to see the jester to grasp the answer. Those infuriating bells on top of his cap betrayed his nod anyway.

"Exactly! The king needs my skills. I will make this evening unforgettable for him and his suave courtiers!"

"Then what are you doing *here*, jester?" 

Cackling, the jester twisted his head on his shoulders, making exactly the same snapping sound that had accompanied the murder of the servant, albeit not nearly as loud. The bells on his cap hadn't ceased ringing either – "I'm warming up for my performance before the king."

"Why here?" – came the voice of the second servant.

"Well, let's say I know better ways to warm a body up than exercise, and as the one way is currently unavailable to me, swarming moth-like around the nobles in that yard, I thought you might provide me with the other one... I can't drink under the very eyes of the nobility, but that doesn't mean I never say yes to a good wine prior to my entry. Just like you..."

Edgar could literally envision the broad, maniacal smile on the jester's face, but he was certain the fool was right. On such rare occasions as feasts, the servants were always assuring that they too had their share of wine and ale; they just had it in private.

The answer of the first servant came hesitantly – "I see... Well, if you..."

Edgar didn't listen any longer. He remembered the time and Lord Tyrakks' orders. He released the hilt at last and slowly retreated from the door, sure that after some little negotiation - in the form of tales for wine - the jester would follow the servants to their clandestine stock of spirits for some drinks. All that mattered to Edgar was that the threat was banned.

He came back to where his companions were huddled around the corpse - "Let's move on!"

"What about the jester?" – asked Malthus.

"He's luring those fools away from our tracks."

"He's not accompanying us?"

"Now why don't you think for yourself for a change, Malthus?" – growled Edgar – "What good would the madkat do us in a fight? Rhyme his enemies into melancholy? Without his insider knowledge he'd have lost his usefulness to us long ago! Let him get drunk with the servants until we finish our task. Then we get back here and finally get rid of that insane pestilence, too…"

Malthus looked surprised and also slightly bashed. Phileas, on the other hand, grinned widely – "How long have I waited for you to say this!"

"Then why are you still lingering here, wasting precious time? Move! The final hour is advancing with wide steps!"

They resumed their crawling and finally reached the end of the arcades. They could go no further lest they wanted to be detected. But they were very close to the gates and there were only two scrawny toms standing guard to the gates – Edgar would call anyone scrawny who wasn't as well built as he was. He smiled in anticipation. Beating them to a fleshy red pulp would be so easy…

He studied the yard once more. He tried to discern how many guards would be stationed in there. He could count as many as ten. They were just six but they were the best fighters of Lord Tyrakks' battalion. Besides, he could perfectly well see the guards were slightly drowsy. He wondered where King deManx's soldiers would be. Probably celebrating and frolicking in the city, either with their wives or with their lovers. Perhaps even with both. Well, they would learn tonight that the price of freedom is a constant watch. Edgar and Lord Tyrakks would be there to assure they understood well the lesson.

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Meanwhile, the four Mystical Knights reached the cellars. The room was completely dark again. Telluros was in the lead, with Pyros and Eolos right behind him and Hydor covering up the rear. A squishing sound filled the room for a second when Telluros stepped forth. Pyros mumbled something and a glimmering fireball appeared hovering over his head.

"Good work, Pyros. Now let's... Sacred Kats!" - Telluros gasped when he saw what he had stepped into. Glued to his boot were the squished remains of a feline brain portion still dripping blood.

"What is this new devilry?" - Hydor asked in a low voice.

"Look! There!" - Pyros pointed forth - "Now we know what happened to the poor squire!"

The dismembered and disemboweled body of the young tom lay in a large pool of his own blood. Eolos came closer and examined the remains.

"This was not made by a single blade. The poor bastard was attacked by several foes." - the slim knight examined the shattered head and shivered - "What a way to go... I'm afraid one of his attackers had a mace of some sort. A sword couldn't do this to a feline skull…"

"And look here..." - Hydor pointed.

"Bloody footprints..."

"I can count as many as four, maybe five kats." - Pyros said before reckoning for a second.

"The footprints end very quickly. We don't know where they have gone to." - Hydor spoke.

Telluros pondered on that information at the glimmering light of Pyros' fireball. Whoever had broken in obviously knew his way around the castle; a fact that pointed to the existence of a traitor in Megalith court. Telluros ran to the base of the tower and outside. From there he looked around, to the path that separated the tower's entrance and the yard where the feast was still occurring. The causeway was large enough to let a pair of chariots pass but its sides were filled with many objects that could constitute good hideouts for a direct attack on the king.

On the other hand... With a sense of premonition, Telluros squinted heavenwards. Outlined fleetingly against the dark stone wall, Telluros thought he saw the shape of a kat on the almost invisible frieze.

"Sacred Kats! Pyros! Eolos! Go back to the king and escort His Highness to the palace. Hurry! Our sovereign's life depends on it!" - Telluros ordered - "Hydor! Come with me! We're going up onto the frieze."

"What? Are you mad?" - Hydor questioned in disbelief. Still, he followed the brown-furred kat's lead. In all the years he'd befriended Telluros he had never led him astray. Even so he sighed in annoyance.

"The things I must do for our king's sake..."

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Midnight was merely minutes away when Tyrakks and his companions reached the part of the ornament overhanging the yard. The warlord ordered his men to take up positions on the frieze, with a distance of fifteen meters between each other, for their coordinated attack. Tyrakks knelt down on one knee and looked back to Glorivald and Marcus. The first was a dim shadow to his left but the second was nowhere in sight, out of his eye range because of the darkness. Tyrakks smiled grimly, then looked below and quickly found the round figure of deManx, laughing that insidious and stupid laugh and drinking wine and eating roasted wild boar like a thirsty and famine beast. The picture sickened him. Soon he felt a growl growing deep inside him. 

He retrieved his bow and one arrow from the quiver. Unseen, he heard Glorivald and Marcus do the same. The warlord passed the tuft of black feathers at the end of the arrow by his lips before taking a careful aim. He aimed at the back of deManx's head. In just a few moments, by the final midnight strike of the Tower bells, deManx would laugh no more...

The clock tower started its fabled midnight's chime. The deep ring of bronze bells rolled over the yard and drowned out the festival activities. The sound ebbed away and silence lasted for a second, then the second strike cut the air. However, a muffled thud interrupted Tyrakks' concentration. He looked to his left, from where the sound had come. He merely saw Glorivald who, just like him, was watching the darkness inquisitorially. Something was wrong.

"Focus on the target, now! Forget Marcus!" – Tyrakks ordered, whispering in the silence between two more bell strikes. He resumed his aiming. For him, the entire world turned jet black. All he saw was the back of deManx's skull. He aimed and recoiled the string. The bow cracked ever so slightly. The string chanted a song of death and doom. A drop of perspiration dripped from the warlord's forehead. He licked his lips. Megalith Kingdom would fall and his monarch, Darkwater, would cover him with all of the kingdom's glories. He could picture the arrow's path. He could see it perforating the skull and burying deep inside his foe's head. It was in his hands now.

He didn't see the two kats approaching, almost running over the frieze. The same mistake cost Marcus his life. He only noticed Telluros' incoming sword when it came flying towards his chest, riveting through him from side to side. The death was almost instantaneous. Telluros had to slow down to retrieve his sword. Hydor passed him by while he saw Pyros and Eolos enter the yard, running as though their own lives depended on that.

The tenth sound of the gong vibrated in the air when Hydor saw the two kneeling toms, stretching their bows and aiming at something in the yard. He felt a chill running up his spine. He didn't need to know anything else. He practically flew over the frieze and screamed as he lunged at the nearest kat, tackling him against the wall. Glorivald released his missile upon impact. The arrow flew from the bow and darted through the air meeting its target and burying itself deep in the chest flesh. The noble tom fell to the side and rolled so he faced the dirt on the yard's slabs. However, he wasn't deManx. Glorivald had missed thanks to Hydor.

Fear for his liege's life had dazed Hydor for one second, as much time as necessary for Glorivald to recover. He wrestled himself out of Hydor's grip and kicked out at him, hitting the Mystical Knight square in the chest just as Telluros flashed past them. Hydor flew back, tumbling and using up his entire year's luck ratio by somehow preventing himself from going over the edge. Glorivald drew steel and charged. All Hydor managed was a hastily performed roll to his right, then the sound of metal cutting through the air where he had stood only a moment ago echoed from the walls. Hydor growled and threw a fist at his enemy's face. Glorivald jumped back and overbalanced for a split-second, giving the Mystical Knight a break long enough to draw his own blade. Now their fight truly began.

Telluros was past the heap that were Hydor and his adversary, running over the frieze, but he was still too far away to try a decent throw of his sword like he did with Marcus. The clock struck twelve for the last time. Before he could intervene, the warlord's fingers released the grip they held over the bow's string, letting it propel the arrow towards its target with lethal speed. The arrow soared the distance between Tyrakks and deManx, cutting the very air, making it resonate as it zinged towards its blank. Telluros shouted a vain, helpless and desperate negative.

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A lone figure was walking slowly, almost leisurely, through the dark streets of inner Megalith City, away from the festivities and its noises in the yard, wandering westwards, ever westwards. Blackness made the air as impenetrable as if it were dense with fog, and that's why no one noticed that this kat was scanning the surroundings circumspectly for any sign of unwanted company. Nobody saw the maniacal smile on his face or the gleam in his eyes, maddened with determination. Not a soul could hear the three-bell cap, for it had long since been rolled into a ball and hidden in a pocket of the red-beige costume again.

The jester stopped where blackness became pitch-blackness, in the shadows of a large building in front of him. He looked up and his eyes flashed a brilliant green for a brief second. Here he was at last: the Tower.

Patiently he waited for midnight, which didn't take long to come. It had already been five to twelve when, after only one drink, he had excused himself from his sociable new servant "friends" (he had to chuckle into his fist on account of this address) with the excuse of having to prepare himself for "his grand finale" (another chuckle). Now the bells above his head rang out and uncoiled the tension that had been building up in him and elicited these titters. He counted the booming chimes to the dozen while he was working the door's lock and pulling it ajar. Then, the final ring fading away in the cold air, he slipped through the small gap, closing the door behind him. His eyes started to shine again, brighter and madder than ever. The opalescent green was his only source of light, but it was strong enough to guide him through the unfamiliar surroundings.

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Pyros and Eolos had never run faster in their lives. They had to get their liege out of the archer's range, or at least shield him from any arrow that might be sent against him. Every meter seemed to stretch; every citizen nearby seemed to block their path. They knocked passers-by down without missing a step, jumped over smaller obstacles like baskets and logs at full speed and yet the distance dwindled far too slowly. Pyros saw the slightly hunched form of Sir Astor amidst the celebrities and shouted out loud, waving frantically...

Sir Astor turned around, startled by screams nearly drowned by the clock's chime. He recognized the running and waving Pyros just as a second, fainter scream floating down from the top of the northern wall made him jerk his head up.

Instantly realizing the imminent danger, Sir Astor did the only thing he could do. He cast a spell. For the Arch-Mage the world seemed to slow down around him. His mind became a void swallowing anything but the spot his eyes were focused on. He searched for any sign of an incoming projectile. He searched, searched and almost missed it in the dark. The arrow was so small it was nearly invisible slicing through the blackness. Already weakened from the advanced spell he was perpetuating, the leader of the Mystical Knights cast a second spell to slow the arrow down. The arrow's velocity and contour made it as hard to stop as an incoming boulder flung by a catapult. When it finally stopped, it was merely a few inches from his sovereign's skull. The Arch-Mage dropped to his knees in sheer exhaustion just after the arrow fell helplessly at deManx's feet. None of the other Mystical Knights would've had the strength needed to conjure these two powerful spells, except maybe Khronos.

"Never mind me." – the aging kat wheezed in the direction of Eolos and Pyros, running towards him – "Our king is in mortal danger. You must take him to safety."

"Aye." – Sir Eolos acknowledged, short of breath, but pressing on. Together with Pyros he ran to Sir Khronos and the king – "Your Majesty is in grave danger out here. We are to escort you to the royal palace. GUARDS!"

At the Mystical Knight's shout the ten guards stationed in the yard came to him. A nearly breathless Sir Astor joined them after the guards were instructed on what to do. After acknowledging his condition to the expectant Mystical Knights, they moved on towards the gates.

"Ah, what's going on here?" – King deManx demanded.

"Not to worry, my liege. Your safety is assured now." – Pyros stated as he led the king away. He was about to reach the gates when the two guards stationed there fell to his feet. He stared down on them, not fully grasping what had happened.

"I think you're very much in error, warlock demon…" – Edgar said, jumping from his hideout and holding his black sword high above his head. He swung it down on Pyros' head, ready to chop the mage in two. 

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Up on the frieze, Lord Tyrakks snarled in contempt at the devilish magic that had crossed his assassination plans, but he could do nothing about it. Instead, he got up while he unsheathed his sword and held it high to stop Sir Telluros' incoming blow. 

Both warriors were soon entwined in a fierce battle. Tyrakks was a skillful swordsman, dancing the dance of death on the dark, narrow frieze high above the yard with no worry about himself. Telluros, however, parried his every move, just as fearless and daring in his attacks as his opponent. While they were going at it hammer and tongs, minutes slipped away before Telluros had even the chance just to glimpse at the happenings down in the yard out of the corner of his eye. What he saw made his heart pump harder against his ribs.

"Hydor! It's a trap! Fighters are attacking the king in the yard! Get rid of that goat-eater and go down and help our friends." – he ordered.

"Right! Like I've been wandering around all this time, no?" – he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he blocked another slash from Glorivald.

"You know, for once I'd like you to simply follow orders." – Telluros sighed. As if on cue, Hydor released another sigh. Slashing out, he managed to rip a bleeding gash on the side of Glorivald's torso. The opposing warrior closed his defense as he groped his bleeding hide, which gave Hydor all the extra seconds he needed.

"Giver of life, // Taker of life. // Faster than a roll of dice, // Water, turn into ice." – Hydor chanted. Suddenly, a glacial coldness enveloped Glorivald and he started freezing up from the inside. The black-furred tom screamed in agony as the ice crystals pierced his every fiber, his every organ. In a few moments, his own blood froze up inside his veins. Soon enough, his strength faltered and he fell from the frieze. Glorivald passed away even before he froze completely. When he impacted on the rock slabs of the yard below, he shattered in a million pieces.

"Good work. Now get going!" – Telluros congratulated his comrade between clenched teeth as he blocked another blow from Tyrakks.

"I'm on my way!" – Hydor acknowledged as he backed away over the frieze.

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Pyros had only time to react, not think. He clapped his hands on both sides of the incoming blade, managing to stop its motion when the edge was only a few inches from his forehead. Edgar forced the sword down as Pyros forced it up. The black blade's edge pierced the flesh on the base of the knight's thumbs, making his blood trickle down his hands and onto his chest.

From behind him, Malthus, Leitner, Phileas and Julius stormed into the yard and quickly surrounded the retreating party, slashing out as they went. Four of the guards met their ultimate doom right there in the first onslaught. The remaining warriors managed to draw out their swords and defend themselves. A terrible sword fight ensued with an inanely blabbering King deManx in the middle.

However well trained Megalith soldiers may be, they can never be a real challenge when their reflexes and minds are slowed down by alcohol. Soon, the guards realized they were no longer fighting to defend their king but rather to defend their own lives. It became clear their foes would stop at nothing to take their sovereign's head off. That spurted them for a while but their efforts were impossible to sustain. In short order, the invading party slaughtered them all.

Pyros was also losing his strength. The proverbial sword hanging above his head had all of a sudden taken a whole new and realistic meaning. The blood from the wounds in his hands was now dripping onto his face. Desperately, he jerked the sword to his right and tried to dodge it. He managed his intent and swiftly turned around as he unsheathed his sword and held it vertically to block his foe's slash, eliciting an explosion of sparks from the point of contact between both blades.

"There are five of them against three of us!" – Eolos rasped as he blocked a slash from Julius and dodged a stab from Malthus.

"Then let's even the odds!" – Khronos stated as he fenced against Phileas and Leitner. He dodged a blow from Leitner and head-banged him into his companion, making them both tumble backwards. That bought him time enough to concentrate on the stronger of them and to chant a spell – "Time is mine to master. // Through ages it flies. // You will wither and alter // Until your existence it nullifies!"

A purple ray shot towards Phileas, hitting him square in the chest, throwing him away. The brawny warrior soon got up and looked to his hands. He saw the fur on them growing at an astonishing fast rate. He began feeling tired and started having trouble breathing. The fur started to turn gray. He realized he was aging at an unnatural speed. He doubled over and clutched his gut. It felt like on fire. He staggered to Khronos, who was busy again fencing with Leitner. Phileas screamed.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME, YOU DEVIL?"

Leitner looked behind and saw his comrade staggering towards him. His fur was absurdly long and gray. His face was scrawny, almost skeletal. His steps were unsure. He wheezed in and out loudly. He grabbed Khronos by the neck and tried to strangle him but his fingers had no strength left in them. He squealed an unholy scream as the strength faltered him, making him kneel. The pop Khronos heard told him the kat had broken his kneecaps when he knelt down. His screams were heart-rending, unearthly. His fur started falling in large patches quickly followed by his rotting skin. Soon, nothing more but a pile of filthy rotten entrails were at Khronos' feet. The kat was now a brown skeleton, still withering away. He wasn't screaming anymore. Not a sound was heard from him anymore. At last, his bones exploded in dust, forming a heap at the purple rider's feet ready to be blown away by the nocturnal breeze.

Leitner had his eyes opened up wide. He was terrified about what had happened to his comrade. He looked back at Khronos, a raging growl forming deep in his chest.

"YOU WILL PAY, YOU MISERABLE BUGGER!"

The other attackers were also terrified. That only made them even more eager to destroy the Mystical Knights and vanquish their miserable excuse for a king.

"The wind flows // In strength it grows. // Sharper than a knife // I call the Wind Scythe!" – Eolos chanted.

The wind caught up and soon the night breeze turned into a storm enveloping Eolos. He slashed out with his right arm, aiming the apex of the slash at Julius. A wind stroke hit the enemy warrior and a gush of blood flew across the air. Julius stared unbelievingly at his chest. It bore a bleeding slash that ran from his lower left chest up until his right shoulder. Julius was shaking like a green stalk in the wind. Eolos slashed out again and this time the blow was so powerful and so well aimed that it beheaded the opposing warrior.

"Now that's more like it! One-on-one combat, just like it ought to be!" – Eolos gloated, and with reason. They were finally fighting back after the initial casualties. However, their foes battled even fiercer now, driven by fear of ending up like their comrades.

"They are not felines in nature, these whoresons! Give these demons no quarter!" - Edgar grunted aloud to incite his comrades, now greatly reduced in number with the losses of four of them.

"They mean to kill me! Astor, they mean to kill me!" – King deManx blabbered as he cowered behind the white garments of his advisor.

"They will not harm your majesty… Not while I still have strength left!" – the aging kat wheezed out. He was still tired from the powerful spells he invoked only moments ago. He tried to stand tall and proud to protect his sovereign but it was no more than a mild illusion, the only sorcery he could muster at this point. He was totally dependent on his pupils.

"The Gray Devil!" – Leitner spat, turning each word into a curse – "Now I know why your foes dubbed you by such a name, warlock! Oswick should have speared you from side to side when he had the chance!"

Khronos raised his sword to block a downward slash from Leitner. The impact caused a shower of sparks to rush over the Mystical Knight's face. – "So that was the name of the bugger who speared me!" – he grunted – "Were his parents mad at the world when they named him so?"

"Wrong comment, wretch!" – Leitner grunted between clenched teeth. He drew back his sword for a low slash. The blade swooshed in a shiny arc from below, meeting Khronos' blade in a powerful upstroke that Khronos couldn't fully block. Both swords went up with the blow, which made the Mystical Knight open up his guard. Leitner sneered malevolently. – "Oswick also told me something before he died!"

Saying no more, Leitner kicked Khronos' right side as hard as he could. Khronos opened his eyes wide when he felt the sharp pain on his still not completely healed wound. It seemed as though he had gotten speared once again. He simply gasped and grunted his pain out in surprise. Doubling over he quickly tried to close his guard while he groped his side with his left hand.

"He told me where his spear fell! He drew out your blood with his javelin then. Now, my blade shall finish his work!" – Leitner said as he slashed out at the wounded tom.

Khronos still tried to block the slash but fencing with only one hand, the gray tom did not have the strength to withstand his foe's mighty swipe. Khronos' sword flew from his hand and fell on the stone floor with a loud metallic clangor. Leitner attacked once more without giving Khronos enough time to dodge his blow. The slash hit the Mystical Knight at the base of his chest, ripping his clothes and opening a bleeding gash. Khronos let out an exclamation of pain as he groped his chest. His opponent threw him a punch to his face, which made the gray warrior fall back to the floor.

"Call out for your demonic makers, warlock!" – Leitner said as he raised his sword over his head, readying himself for the final strike – "Not even they can save you now! DIE!"

Khronos saw the sharp edge of the blade hurrying towards him, ready to chop him in half. He closed his eyes, hoping his demise would be swift. The sound of metal against metal rang over the sounds of the battle. The sound, just as the long wait for the incoming blade confused Khronos. He should be finished by now. He opened his eyes and saw some sparks. His enemy was overhanging him. A few beads of sweat ran down his forehead. Leitner wasn't looking down at him. He was looking to the side with a besotted look on his face. Khronos looked to the same side. He finally discerned the other sword, which had stopped Leitner's blade. He recognized the kat who wielded that second sword.

"Hydor!" – Khronos sighed in surprise.

"No brother of ours shall be killed while I'm alive to protect him!" – the blond tom growled in a low tone. He then roared and forced his sword up, drawing his opponent away from the injured Khronos and resuming the fight with Leitner in Khronos' lieu. The gray knight swiftly assessed the damages inflicted upon him before getting up. He quickly went for his sword, returning then to guard his king along with Sir Astor.

"I apologize profusely, my mentor… It seems I am now unfit to retake the combat…" – said the Mystical Knight.

"No one is ever completely unfit. Even now, you still battle for your King. Every drop of blood dripping out of your body speaks volumes about your loyalty and your courage."

"Then why is my heart telling me that this is pointless?" – Khronos thought as he pointed his sword up, assuming a defensive stance.

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The dame of Megalith City, Queen Callista, rolled on her bed under the silky sheet. Her golden mane lay partly over her face in disarrangement. She was sleeping peacefully, as if nothing in this world could disturb her. In fact, she was dreaming. In her reverie, she saw herself lying down by a small mountain stream, stretched over the green grass that blanketed the banks of the indolent rivulet, occasionally cut by a rocky outcrop.

The sunrays were caressing her face as she lay on her back, hands behind the back of her head. Weren't it for her garbs, she could be mistaken for a peasant girl. She opened her eyes and watched gleefully as a multicolored butterfly flapped its large wings across the air.

She admitted she loved that place. There, she didn't have to be queen. She was just another sentient being in communion with Nature. She closed her eyes again, listening to the rhythmic drone of a cicada perched on a branch of the willow tree overhanging the flowing body of water. Lulled by the insect's sound, she strayed into a light sleep.

She didn't know for how long had she stayed in that blissful trance. What she did know was that strange, out of place sounds started merging with the rhythmic lullaby drone of the cicada. It sounded like metal hurtling into metal, the song a blade sang whenever it swished… Even ghastlier were the sounds of what seemed to be screams…

Those unfitting sounds gained over the cicada's song, bringing Callista to awareness. She looked around but all she saw were the grass, the stream, the mountain fields sloping down to the valley below, the willow tree and the singing insect still perched on one of its branches. However, she didn't hear either of these natural melodies. She kept listening to those horrid noises.

In time, Queen Callista woke up. First, her eyes parted but a little, thin slits that barely let see her emerald green irises. As she recollected herself, she opened her eyes and cleared the sleep out of her head. Her golden locks swished wildly from side to side as she shook her head to clear the last traces of sleep-induced dizziness.

Still, she kept listening to those unfitting sounds. However, now she heard them clearly. She got out of bed and hastily dressed her dark pink silk robe over her under garbs. She headed out of the bedroom and, barefooted, quickly strutted towards the throne room. Once there, she headed for the large window that granted access to the balcony overhanging the yard where the feast was supposed to be occurring. She grasped the curtains and shoved them aside abruptly.

She gasped.

A battle was brewing right below her frightened and confounded gaze. The feast had yielded to a nightmare. She could see her husband cowering behind the white garments of her trusted advisor, Sir Astor. There were also the Mystical Knights, all of them battling fiercely against some invaders she had never laid eyes upon before.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME, YOU DEMON?"

The scream came to her ears almost as clearly as though she was down there, in the yard and made her quiver. She saw one of the invaders quickly decaying and finally turning into a skeleton that blew to a fine dust in front of Khronos.

She watched as her Mystical Knights struggled valiantly against the invaders. For a long time, she thought both parties had equivalent strength and skill. She gasped in horror when she saw Sir Khronos receive a blow to his side and fall down. She looked at Khronos' companions, hoping any of them would notice the fallen Knight. Soon enough, however, she realized they were too focused on their own fights to pay much attention to their comrade.

They couldn't help Khronos. But maybe *she* could help them all…

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As he scanned the lower levels of the Tower the jester thought of his companions. What would he give to see Tyrakks' face, or that of his near dumb-show man, Edgar, if they knew he had used them for his own dark desire – "No, my selfless distraction of those servants has not been selfless in the slightest, Edgar!" – he whispered into the darkness, to no one in particular. Rather it had followed the single aim he'd been undertaking ever since he left Megalith City: to get into this very tower.

He had sworn vengeance on King deManx, wanted to see him suffer, humiliated, even dead; however, he did not want this to happen by somebody else's hand. The Darkwaterian soldiers were just a diversion - cannon fodder, albeit very cussing cannon fodder... And the jester truly doubted that there was any chance of success for Lord Tyrakks' plans. The Mystical Knights were far too alert to be caught napping on duty like cheap tavern guards, and too powerful to be swatted by a band of blunt soldiers with blunt weapons. 

"Chances are they're already dead by now..."

It didn't matter to him. Darkwater's soldiers had just been his guarantee that the Mystical Knights were kept too busy to worry for their tower. They had fulfilled their task, what more could he ask for? 

He began laughing eerily - "This is my game of chess, deManx! You have some knights, but they're busy with my pawns. And so you're defenseless. I will destroy your king. But you can't destroy mine, as I have no king, hahaha… - Now where is it? It must be here somewhere!" 

His humor vanished as swiftly as it had come - "Arrgh!" – he had opened another door. Behind it was another training room, midway up the tower. He turned and ascended further, eyes flashing maliciously, another growl rumbling from his throat.

"The queen is the key to winning this game, deManx! Your queen and my queen, for that's the same thing. AND I WANT HER AMULET!" – he screamed, not caring if anyone noticed. A mad rage had taken hold of him. Again...

For he knew to whom it belonged - the amulet... He had seen it. When he had still had access to any part of the castle, when he had still been the king's jester, he had espied it. Queen Callista was its wearer - the seventh Mystical Knight was of royal blood! Sir Astor was giving her private lectures in the castle, in secret, because no others, not even the other Mystical Knights, should know of her tampering with magic. It was a great secret - a great tale and one, over that, that yearned to be told. But the jester had kept it to himself, and he had checked that the Arch-Mage and his pupil hadn't noticed his spying on them.

The amulet was an enhancer, or maybe a collector, he didn't know exactly... Worn around the neck it magnified the queen's magic abilities considerably. And it would enhance anyone's magic abilities considerably, even his... But while Callista was the amulet's wearer, Sir Astor was its keeper. The amulet had to be somewhere nearby! If he could get it out of the Arch-Mage's custody, no one would be able to stop him from settling with deManx once and for all!

The stairs ended. The jester had reached the highest floor. There was a small hole in the ceiling through which a wooden ladder led to the clock above, but he doubted that the amulet was hidden directly beneath the gabled roof. Apart from the hole, only one more door was on the corridor. He pushed it open and the shimmer of his eyes bathed Sir Astor's study in an unearthly green.

"That's promising!"

Grinning uncannily he set about his work, literally upending the room's interior in his search. Soon hundreds of papers and tomes, ripped carelessly from their shelves or pushed from the desk, carpeted the floor with a thick layer of knowledge.

"Wait! What's this?"

A panel in one bookshelf, hidden behind some ancient looking tomes, had caught the jester's attention. He hurled the books across the room and pried at the board with greedy hands and mad desire. The fingernail from his right index finger tore off and blood smeared the oak furniture. He never even noticed it. Then the wood yielded. A small niche lay behind, and in it - like a green eye in a nest of gold - the emerald of the magical amulet glowed at him invitingly.

"Like one of my eyes..." – he said, spellbound.

The amulet was of an indescribable beauty and it sang to him of victory and triumph. He reached for it with shaking hands. The gold felt warm to the touch. The madkat attached the golden sling around his neck, savoring the power that emanated from the jade-colored stone and coursed through his body. He did not waste a single thought to the possibility of safeguards against theft. However, the amulet was magically warded by one of Sir Astor's ingenious charms, and though the Arch-Mage was too worn out from his recent protecting spells to notice the magic signal that was sent out, someone else was perceptible for it.

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His ears twitched as if something had disturbed them. Khronos felt a strange pulse of magic unlike any other he had felt before that night. He looked back to Sir Astor, analyzing the elder's face out of the corner of his eye, looking for any signs of recognition. None. If the aging tom was feeling the same thing he was, he didn't show it. Khronos tightened the grip on his sword as he clenched his teeth. He tried to concentrate. It was hard due to the battle that sprang all around him.

He looked to the perfectly proportioned figure of Hydor, then to the slender form of Eolos and finally his eyes settled on the powerfully built bulk of Pyros. As far as he could tell, they were unaware of the mystical emanations he was picking up. He focused on the magic signal. It didn't take him long to discover its source and his eyes went wide when he did.

"The Tower!" – he whispered to himself – "It's coming from our tower. Someone's inside!"

Khronos looked once more to the fighters around him. Then he looked to the frieze where Telluros was still fencing against what was probably the commander of the invading party. Was this whole battle just a diversion from his foes' real goal? What could they be after in their tower?

"Whatever it is, it mustn't fall in the wrong hands!" – he spoke before he sheathed in his sword and darted away from the battle and out of the yard.

"KHRONOS!" – the Arch-Mage bellowed in a tired voice but his pupil was already halfway through the yard when he shouted.

"Cowardice runs deep among your comrades, warlock demon!" – Edgar grunted at Pyros after blocking a stab from his opponent – "Watch as they flee from the might of Darkwater! It appears that the so-called Gray Devil has turned into nothing but a gray coward!"

Pyros' eyes turned to thin slits. Growling, he managed to overpower his opponent's strength and open up his guard, after what he gave a powerful kick to Edgar's ribs. – "Khronos is *not* a coward, you goat-eater!"

Pyros jumped back and started chanting as he held his sword upside down with both hands – "The old flame keeps you warm. // Fire and brimstone // Listen to the one // Who invokes the mighty firestorm."

The burly Knight lowered his sword, riveting it into a floor stone slab. As he did it, sparks came out from the tip, which grew up in size, turning into a tourbillion of fire that shot away from the blade and was directed to the bulky figure of Edgar.

Edgar, who was groping his injured ribs from Pyros' earlier kick, clenched his teeth and awkwardly dove away from the whirling rivulet of fire. Still, he was partly caught by the Mystical Knight's magical onslaught. Falling helplessly to the ground, he grunted out aloud in pain as the side of his torso was scorched by the unnatural assault from his opponent. The husky warrior stood on the ground, groping his injuries.

Pyros wasted no time. He took up his sword and ran towards the fallen adversary. He rested the tip of his sword over Edgar's throat, pressing into it to stress his words.

"I do believe our little spar is quite over now…" – he said, slightly short of breath.

Edgar growled but the tip of Pyros' sword pressing down on his throat made that act rather difficult. The offensive warrior wasn't ready yet to just give up. He was still grasping his black sword. In a last attempt to trounce Pyros, he tried an upward slash on the defender combatant.

"ARE YOU BLIND?" – Pyros shouted as he removed his sword from Edgar's throat and rammed its blade's edge against the black blade's flat body, near the hilt, shattering the sword in two. After that, Pyros relocated his sword's tip over Edgar's throat once more, this time pressing so hard that a thin thread of blood started trickling down Edgar's neck. – "Or are you just stupid?"

The gray husky warrior glanced at his broken sword and then at the broken black blade lying on the floor. Finally, his look settled on Pyros' determined expression. He clenched his teeth in contempt. He closed his eyes and slowly eased the grip on the hilt of his shattered weapon, letting it slide to the floor with a soft metallic clang. He had finally met someone he couldn't vanquish.

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Queen Callista pushed the clock tower's door open and got inside, questioning herself why it was unlocked in the first place. Once inside, she whispered a spell that ignited all the candles in that room. She took a flat candlestick from a nearby desk and rushed upstairs, towards Sir Astor's study.

She kept thinking about the front door being on the lock. It didn't make any sense! It wasn't like the Arch-Mage to be so careless as to leave the entrance open! She was still thinking about this when she heard a tom's enraged voice shouting something she couldn't quite discern because of the echo. The reason for the front door to be open was crystal clear now: someone had broken into the tower.

Callista stopped climbing up the stairs. She felt uneasy. She had hoped the tower to be empty. Now, she knew someone, perchance one of the invaders, was inside. She reckoned she wouldn't be much of a hindrance to a warrior, at least not if she used blunt force. Her only weapon at the moment was her magical abilities, which were still being developed by Sir Astor.

"I must risk it! My comrades need me!" – she whispered to the shadows before pressing on – "My *husband* needs me!"

She practically ran upstairs. Her pink robe fluttered with every step she took, just as her golden hair did. She moved so hastily that for two or three times the small flame that illuminated her way threatened to go out. Almost miraculously, it didn't.

When she reached the top floor she stopped in her tracks and gasped. An eerie green light poured from Sir Astor's study. Apparently, the trespasser was searching for the same thing she was looking for: the amulet Sir Astor had given her to enhance her magic abilities. The stakes had all of a sudden risen to a dangerous height. Still, she was determined to help her friends and save her beloved husband. She stepped in.

"Cease this foul deed at once!" – she barked at the trespasser. Her eyes grew wide in disbelief when she recognized him by his patchy beige and red clothes. – "The jester?"

"My Queen!" – the buffoon crooned, bowing down to Callista before putting his cap back on – "How great a joy you bestow upon me by blessing this moment with your presence, for from this moment on you shall witness not only your beloved husband's downfall but also the destruction of this place of pomposity named Megalith Castle!"

The jester pointed his right forefinger at Callista and shot a bright green ray of energy towards her. The Queen barely had time to whisper a protective spell of her own, surrounding herself with a weak barrier that almost promptly shattered when the greenish ray of light forced its way through it and hit Megalith City's dame. The damage it did, however, was greatly reduced thanks to the protective barrier she invoked. All that she felt was a weak electric pulse running through her, forcing a small scream, more of surprise than really pain, out of her. When she regained enough composure, she faced the crazed fool.

"How dare you attack your Queen?" – she said in a deep voice. She cast an elemental spell that turned the air of the room into a small storm. Vellum flew everywhere and any candle that was lit went out. The flogging winds made the jester fall on his tail. But, being still the wizard's apprentice that she was, she couldn't uphold the attack for long. The amulet was her only chance. She had to wear it if she intended to win this battle. Taking profit of the mess her storm caused, she dove for the jester and tried to rip the amulet off his neck.

"What's this?" – the jester said in a mellifluous tone as he grabbed her fists into his – "Is there something my Queen wants from me? Oh, perchance my Queen is looking forward to use this charming talisman that I found? Well, guess again, sweetheart!"

The fool pushed Callista aside, making her fall to the ground. He aimed his right palm at her and shot a small torrent of green energy that stroke her dead center. She was both too tired and too surprised to raise any barrier against that magical onslaught. She was thrown out of the room and sent into a wall before collapsing to the ground, passing out instantly. The jester walked towards her still form and inspected her. Aside from a few excoriations from rasping against the wall and the floor, not even her fur was harmed by the magic attack. The same couldn't be said for her robe, which bore some gashes and smoldered a little.

"I have no quarrel against you. On account of that I will let you live to witness the downfall of your precious city." – the jester stated as he turned around to reenter the Arch-Mage's studio. From his back, a shout of anger came to his ears.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER, YOU WHORESON?" 

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Khronos would never run faster in his life. He didn't know what was going on, he didn't know what those signals were that he received, he didn't know anything. All he knew was that pure gut instinct was telling him to get to the Tower as fast as he could.

He rammed his shoulder into the wooden door and burst into the ground level of the tower. He stopped there, both in surprise and pain. Not only was the door unlocked but also the candles on the room were lit. Definitely there was something very wrong going on. Besides, his last stunt made the pain Leitner had revived in his torso resurface. He slowly unsheathed his sword and climbed up the stairs, trying to subdue the pain. The emanations he picked up earlier had long since faded. Now all he sensed was the nauseating miasma of some powerful, yet foul, magic, beckoning him to come upstairs.

He was about halfway up to his mentor's study when he heard a short yelp of pain.

A female voice!

He widened his eyes suddenly. Could it be her? He gritted his teeth and ran up faster, tightened the grip on the hilt of his sword. He was on the floor below Sir Astor's study when he felt another strong pulse of evil wizardry. He heard something thumping against the floor of the upper level. He ran up, almost praying not to find her there.

He reached the upper level and stopped. His eyes trailed down upon the unconscious pink-dressed form in the floor. The golden hair fell in a lump over the side of her face.

"No… By the Sacred Kats, no… Not her…" – he thought. He looked up ahead and saw her attacker leaving the corridor, about to enter Sir Astor's study. Anger and hatred welled up in his heart. He could feel a low growl forming deep into his chest. He shouted in anger.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER, YOU WHORESON?"

The jester turned around to meet his new adversary. As he did so, Khronos could see the amulet hanging from the fool's neck, pulsing with energy and shining in a bright green. The jester smiled.

"Sir Khronos…" – he cooed – "Welcome back from the dead. You'll find out soon enough you should have remained with the Kats Beneath!"

The jester walked towards Khronos with decisive, unafraid steps. The bells on his cap rang softly with every step he took. A white maniacal toothy grin was plastered on the buffoon's face, which was bathed in the green eerie glow from the amulet below.

"She was foolish enough to try to stop me by her own paltry means… But my power is beyond anyone's meager understanding! She learnt that the hard way and so will you…"

The insane buffoon suddenly aimed his palm at Khronos and shot a green globe of sorcerous energy. Daringly, Khronos deflected the blow with his sword, causing the sphere to crash against the wall on one of the sides, producing a small burst of energy that dyed the wall in tones of dark gray. Had it been any ordinary warrior to try such a stunt, he'd be dead by now. As it happened to be a Mystical Knight, drawing on his own magic in defense, only Khronos' sword suffered from the magic attack, turning into a molten and retorted lump of steel that Khronos threw aside.

"You will pay for what you've done to my Queen." – Khronos growled, gritting and showing off his rear molars and canines – "BASTARD!"

With hate fostering in his heart, Khronos suddenly called to him all the mystic power he could muster. Rarely such a magic might had been displayed before. Sparks ran throughout his body as his clothes fluttered wildly as though caught in a strong whirlwind.

"Impertinent fool! You're injured! You're weak! Do you think you stand any chance against one who has become powerful enough to defy the Sacred Kats themselves?" – the jester gloated.

"Pomposity will be your downfall! NOW DIE!" – Khronos hurled a torrent of purple energy towards the jester, hitting the insane fool dead center and throwing him across the corridor, into Sir Astor's study and through the window opposite. The jester fell helplessly from the top of the tower to the ground, screaming on his way down.

Khronos panted, tired. He dropped to his knees as a few beads of perspiration were running down his forehead.

"Khronos?" – a soft voice called, coming from behind the Knight. The gray tom looked behind and saw Queen Callista straightening herself up. – "Khronos, are you well?"

"My Queen…" – Khronos grunted as he stood up – "Did that fiendish fool harm your person?"

"It will be all right." – she evasively responded.

"My Queen, you should not stay here. It is very dangerous! Your Highness should get back to your royal accommodations!" – the gray warrior said, concern filling his words.

"You rid us of that assassin! He surely passed away when he fell off the Tower!"

"No, my Queen…" – Khronos answered, somberly – "He still lives. I still sense his foul presence in our midst… I'm afraid he now tries to finish what his comrades have started and failed to do…"

"My husband!" – Callista whispered, in shock – "Khronos, you must stop that mad kat! I'm sure he means to assassinate my beloved husband! You *must* put an end to this insanity!"

"I will do as her majesty orders me to do. And I promise my Queen I shall return as the victor." – he answered as he fled.

Running down the stairs, he groped his right flank. All this commotion had had its toll on his injury. It burned as if the Kats Beneath were torturing him with blazing iron rods. But, inwardly, that was the lesser of his pains. The one that had just been given to him by words hurt a lot more than any physical ache. Still, he pressed on.

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"You battle as though the whips of the Kats Beneath were at your back, demon!" – Lord Tyrakks grunted out as he dodged a slash from Telluros. For more than just once, Tyrakks thought the Mystical Knight was about to overpower him. Yet Telluros always held back, prolonging the battle. It was as if the Mystical Knight was either trying to prove something or merely having fun.

"That is more than I can say for you, lousy trespasser!" – Telluros taunted Tyrakks. The warlord growled and kicked Telluros' gut.

Also for more than once, Tyrakks had almost managed to throw Telluros off the frieze and every time the sorcerer had managed to circumvent the predicament. Now, alas, his luck finally ran out. With the kick Tyrakks threw him, he misplaced his foot and fell off the frieze. Still, he was lucky in his misfortune. Out of desperation, Telluros managed to grasp the border of the frieze. Weren't it for his rapid reflexes, he'd be crashing onto the stone slabs of the yard below now, like his sword did in his place.

Lord Tyrakks came closer to the border and looked down on his enemy with a maniacal smile distorting his features.

"It appears the tables have turned in my favor, warlock. Here I have you entirely at my mercy. What's to stop me from parting you with your life?" – Tyrakks asked disdainfully as he crouched on the frieze.

"You will not escape from this castle alive" – Telluros grunted – "Your followers have failed you and you are greatly reduced in number. Even if you take my life, others will finish what I began and for you there will be no comfort in this world, for you will be forever hunted down by my brothers! He who kills a Mystical Knight is doomed to suffer an equivalent fate."

"Indeed, for you are demons and demonic creatures are relentless towards their quarry. Alas, poor demon, that will not be enough to stop me from fulfilling my destiny…" – Tyrakks stated out as he straightened himself up.

"Which is…"

"To remove all who oppose the will of Darkwater. Prepare to meet your demonic makers, warlock." – Tyrakks informed. He raised his sword over his head with the tip facing down. He meant to thrust it through Telluros' head.

"You may find that we're not so easy to remove…" – Telluros said before he chanted rapidly – "I beckon on the power // Of the mighty earthquake // So in my final hour // There's destruction in my wake!"

After chanting, Telluros pounded his free hand on the part of the frieze directly underneath Lord Tyrakks. Under his spell, his hand bore enough strength to turn that portion of the frieze into dust. Without support, the warlord fell helplessly off the ornament. Although stunned by such an act, Tyrakks still managed to shout as he fell onto one of the tables set for the feast. He crashed among the remains of food and spirits, cracking the wooden table and making everything on it to fall on top of him. Even so, the fall didn't kill him, although it rendered the warlord unconscious. 

"Fell situations require fell deeds…" – Telluros said before he sighed out and strained to get back up the frieze. Once atop the ornament, the brown-furred Knight looked down to the yard. He saw that Pyros had dominated his attacker. Hydor and Eolos were still fencing their enemies. – "I'd better get down there and secure my prey."

As Telluros hastily backed away from the frieze, Eolos and Hydor conjugated their efforts, throwing a final magic offensive against their foes.

"Sharper than a beak of eagle // I call the water ice sickle!" – Hydor chanted his spell, which turned the air dampness into ice needles.

"The wind flows, // In strength it grows // And like a hurricane it blows!" – Eolos cast his spell, which caused the nocturnal breeze to accelerate to sub-cyclonic speed.

The result of the conjugated attack was the merciless pounding of thousands of ice needles against Malthus and Leitner with full force. The icy spears riveted in their bodies and reduced them to two bleeding dead pincushions. After assessing the result of their attack, both warriors knocked their forearms against each other's, congratulating themselves on a job well done.

Precisely then Telluros arrived at the yard, carrying two rolls of rope. He stopped when he saw the bloody lumps in front of Eolos and Hydor. The ice spears had started to melt in the meantime and left open bleeding gashes behind.

"Good work." – was Telluros' only response. He handed Hydor a roll of rope and motioned him towards Pyros before he headed towards his quarry, Lord Tyrakks. He found the warlord still unconscious amid the food and metal calyxes and goblets. His clothes bore the stains of grease, wine and blood. The Mystical Knight didn't waste more time and hurriedly tied the warlord up.

That done, he placed Tyrakks over one of his broad shoulders and carried him towards his sovereign. Pyros did the same with Edgar after Hydor finished tying up the brawny kat.

"Here they are, Your Majesty." – Pyros stated as he kicked Edgar's rear and forced him to his knees, beside Tyrakks – "As I promised, your safety is assured now."

"Boastful as ever…" – Telluros muttered, smiling. His words were underlined by Eolos' and Hydor's scoffer smiles.

"Is… Is it over?" – King deManx babbled from his new cowering spot under Sir Astor's garbs. The graying tom looked down and his face reddened. He hastily stepped away from his sovereign. The Mystical Knights gathered there laughed their heads off.

Edgar, on the other hand, had no reason to laugh. He gave out a low growl. This sickened him. The best warriors Darkwater had were destroyed by this mockery of a bunch of merry scrawny sissies… He dared to look at his unconscious leader. Tyrakks concerned him the most. His comrades were dead; there was nothing he could do about it. Perhaps they did deserve to die, if their incompetence was so blatant to the point of being defeated by these… sorcerers…

"Yes… Sorcerers… The battle was lost from the beginning. I can see that now. We were never a match for these magic-wielders… We were doomed to fail all along. If only they hadn't used their fiendish sorcery… Well, that's the same as asking a tiger not to use its fangs and claws…" – the brawny black warrior closed his eyes and lowered his head – "There's still one last hope, however…" – And that hope covered him in shame.

"A toast!" – Pyros stated out aloud, grabbing a calyx full of wine – "To our monarch, king deManx XIII!"

"Aye!" – was the nearly simultaneous answer of the remaining Knights. As they prepared their goblets to toast, Pyros raised his into the air. When they turned to make their toast, a bright green beam of light shattered Pyros' cup into tiny shrapnel, spilling the crimson liquid all over the burly warrior's face and hand.

"I believe it is still too early to celebrate, my friends. My victory will only be complete when I bring this kingdom to its knees!" – a deriding voice reached their ears, coming from the entrance of the yard. In the shadows there was a small green glowing spot.

"Who are you?" – Pyros inquired, enraged – "Did you do this?"

"Jester would suffice, I suppose. Or madkat. But you can call me anything, just don't call me often!" – the buffoon said as he came into the light, revealing his beige and red outfit, as well as the fool's cap with his tinkling bells. – "As to your second question, yes."

"Isn't… Isn't that my former jester?" – King deManx asked, cowering once more behind Sir Astor. The Arch-Mage didn't answer that. His eyes were settled upon the glowing green pendant hanging from the jester's neck. He gritted his teeth and tightened the grasp on his staff.

"How did he get his hands on the amulet?" – Sir Astor thought to himself – "I would have sensed if it had been stolen! My protective spell… Well, that's all beyond the point, now… The question is whether I will be able to stop him or not. I'm still weak… I don't think I'd stand a chance against him if he unleashes the full power of the amulet… I don't think my Mystical Knights can withstand it either…"

"Stay back before you regret your deeds!" – Telluros stated out, positioning himself in front of all the others.

"And who would dare to face me?" – the fool challenged as he kept walking towards them relentlessly.

"I would!" – Telluros responded, drawing steel.

"NO!" – Sir Astor shouted – "Blades are of no more use here! Our mystic powers are the only thing that now has a chance to stand in his way."

"Master?" – Eolos inquired – "What do you mean?"

"I've wasted enough time tonight. Time to end it all for you!" – the jester said as he prepared a massive magic assault.

"Time?" – a familiar voice made itself heard – "Did someone mention the word 'time'?

Everyone looked to the entrance of the yard once again. In there, under the portico, stood Khronos, already chanting one of his most powerful spells that was, simultaneously, his trademark. - "Time is mine to master // Through ages it flies // You will wither and alter // Until your existence it nullifies!"

A purple ray shot away from Khronos' hands, directed at the jester, who just had enough time to raise a protective frontal barrier that blocked most of Khronos' spell but not all. A trickle of his magic still hit the jester, adding the weight of ten more winters to his total. The fool grunted as he felt himself aging at an unnatural speed.

"Is that all you can muster, wretched warlock?" – the jester defied. He turned his back on the remaining kats and focused only on Khronos. – "You will regret ever having crossed my path. AAAGGHH!"

The jester fell on all fours after receiving the full strength of Pyros' fire rivulet against his back. He looked back, gritting his teeth in anger.

"I'll teach you all not to meddle with me!" – he said as he got up and pointed the amulet on the Mystical Knights' direction. The green glow intensified and they were all forced to their knees. Some magic prevented them from straightening up, no matter how hard they tried to. – "That's it! Bow down to me, worthless worms!"

"NO!" – Khronos shouted as he ran towards the fool, preparing another spell already – "I won't let you succeed! I'll stop you!"

"You will do nothing of the sort!" – the jester replied, aiming his right palm at the gray Knight and launching a torrent of green sorcerous energy against him, which met the incoming warrior head on, throwing him to the ground.

Regrettably, the stream of magical power had hit Khronos in the precise spot Oswick had javelined him. The same spot Leitner had kicked only minutes ago. Khronos curled up in a ball on the floor with his hands covering the wounded side. The pain was as terrible as when he first got speared in the battlefield. The ache was impossible to sustain and he had to scream it out in a heart-rending howl of pain. He looked to his hands and saw them tinged in red. The latest attack had reopened the gash. The sounds around him had faded to an unrecognizable muffled noise. Through misty dazed eyes, he saw the jester shooting some green rays of sorcerous energy against his friends, his mentor and his king. He was punishing them, torturing them before the end. In his mind, he recalled Callista's words.

_"Khronos, you must stop that mad kat!"_

He closed his eyes, in pain.

_"I'm sure he means to assassinate my beloved husband!"_

He pounded his fist onto the rock slabs.

_"You must put an end to this insanity!"_

He opened his eyes suddenly. Yes. It was his duty. He had to put an end to this insanity, once and for all.

Straining to rise up, he leaned on his knee for support before throwing the final spurt of muscular strength to straighten himself up. He gasped for air as though he had just done the most difficult task in his life. Still, he staggered towards his enemy.

"My only chance… The *only* chance… Is to destroy that amulet…" – Khronos thought to himself as he limped towards the jester – "My pain means nothing… My duty is to protect the King of Megalith Kingdom… No matter the cost…"

"Bow down to me, your executioner!" – the jester exclaimed as he punished his victims some more. He'd discarded the gray warrior completely when he saw him curled in ball on the floor, screaming in pain. He thought he'd probably just inflicted him some major internal damage, incapacitating the Mystical Knight indefinitely. The physical attack he suffered came, thus, completely unexpected.

Gathering whatever strength, both physical and of will, he had left, Khronos hurled himself against the jester, knocking him to the ground. The pain he was feeling in his side was overwhelming but he wouldn't let it stand in the way of his duty. Khronos managed to turn his foe around, so the jester's back faced the stony floor of the yard.

"YOU!" – the fool managed to growl in contempt before Khronos' fist crashed on his face. Enraged, the jester pressed his palm against Khronos' chest and shot a beam of green sorcerous energy that passed through the knight's body and left it from his back. However, Khronos managed to stay on top of his enemy and administered another punch to the fool's head, toppling off the jester's cap.

But the latest mystic onslaught had it consequences. Khronos could feel his strength fading away rapidly. He wheezed with each breath he took. There was only one thing to do. Khronos grasped the amulet and the artifact let out a discharge of pure sorcerous energy that enveloped both the Mystical Knight and the fool, who howled in pain. Drawing power from an unknown source, Khronos tugged at the string, trying to rip the amulet off the jester's neck. The deed couldn't have been more difficult. It seemed as though the string was made out of steel. Khronos roared out as he finally managed to tear the amulet off the buffoon's neck, leaving a brief green trail behind as he withdrew his hand from his foe with the artifact tightly secured inside.

The jester lay limply on the ground, unconscious. Khronos was standing, with green sparks ravaging his body as the final embers of the amulet's magic faded away. His mouth and eyes were wide open but he was neither screaming nor seeing. His comrades were shouting his name, watching helplessly as he rigidly fell on his back. His right fist opened and allowed the shattered talisman to slip from his palm.

The battle was finally over.

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s----------

Rumors of Darkwater's assassination attempt on deManx's life spread like wildfire in the streets and for weeks to come the citizens of Megalith City had but one topic to discuss at home or in the taverns: the monumental battle that had been fought in their very midst, in the heart of their city. And even though many kats had witnessed the events, gossip distorted the truth until the story had it that deManx had single-handedly and with bare hands fought his adversaries - gruesome, evil creatures out of legends.

Storytellers didn't do justice to the six brave soldiers who had saved their liege's life. They barely even mentioned them, nor did they refer to them in the aftermaths of that fight. When the threat Darkwater presented was suddenly banned by the enemy king's suicide, raconteurs and even some chroniclers readily laid the reason for it at King deManx's feet. They saw Megalith Kingdom's victory as a sign of the restored heavenly order.

The truth was less spectacular, albeit less peaceful. Again it was the Mystical Knights who twisted fortune to their king's advantage. Sir Astor's questioning the surviving attackers soon told him that there was no chance whatsoever for peace with a neighboring land under Darkwater's sovereignty. His gory feud could and would fester, resulting in unpredictable anguish on both sides. But due to the heavy losses accompanying his futile attacks on Megalith Kingdom, Darkwater had lost the goodwill of his people. Only his Sacred Kats-given position kept him the power, while his possible successors were less war-obsessed than him. It was a decision of weighing one life against innumerable innocent lives, and Sir Astor chose without a second's hesitation. With Sir Khronos still in sickbed, close to death, he sent the other four Mystical Knights to the court of Darkwater, to succeed where Lord Tyrakks and his men had failed. King Darkwater's death was no suicide.

It was the end to the war.

Another figure wasn't accredited for his part in the scheme. Few people knew about Megalith City's vengeance-seeking collaborator; fewer still knew what happened to him. As secretive as possible the jester was thrown in the deepest dungeon of Megalith Castle. In a moldy, slippery, cold cell that hadn't seen a ray of sunlight since the foundation of the citadel he awaited the judgment on his crimes, not knowing that his vows against the king weren't yet as public as he wished them to be. Seldom did he get company, and nobody watching him engaged in his soliloquies was friendly to his cause. And yet it was on the very day that Darkwater was stealthily assassinated that he did not get one but two visitors, and both helped to shape and spread the legend he was going to become...

The day had already sneaked up close on nightfall, even though there was not one sliver of natural light in the dungeon that would have told the mad kat that. Suddenly he became conscious of the presence of another. In his mental state he couldn't tell for how long it had been there already. Now, however, awareness hammered fiery needles into his skull. He turned.

A lighted oil lamp flickered low in a small alcove in the wall opposite the thick iron cell bars. In front of the lamp stood a she-kat, more veiled than illuminated by its thin, sorrowful excuse for light.

"The mobled queen..."

Even in the darkness, the apparition of Queen Callista appeared remarkably corporeal.

"That's good, 'mobled queen' is good. - I say we will have no more marriages. Those that are married already, all but one shall live; the rest shall keep as they are. Hahaha. All but one... All but one..."

Unlike the other forms that had eventually disappeared when he had ignored them, Queen Callista persisted. The jester watched her cagily, beating back against the hammers inside his head by hitting his head against the wall. Notwithstanding his own maltreatment a big maniacal smile spread on his face and his eyes began glowing anew. Maybe this time it was indeed the queen that stood before him and not merely his imagination playing tricks on him.

"Queen Callista!" – he addressed her direct at last – "How happy I am to see you well. Which reason do I owe the honor of your visit to my lofty abode? Tell me..." – he continued, without giving her the chance of an answer – "... how fares that humble protector of yours, Sir Astor?"

His question had the wished effect. The jester saw her body tense.

"I take it he is forever shocked past words" - he chuckled.

The queen stepped closer to the bars. When she spoke her voice was ice - "No offense in the world is as great as that it would excuse unspeakable carnage in revenge. What renders the offense to you so special that it would rationalize the fathomless suffering and irrevocable anguish you have brought down on the kats of Megalith City and Darkwater Castle, jester? Answer me that!"

The jester laughed loud and unexpectedly. The laugh mingled with the ringing sound of the bells on his cap to create an obnoxious noise that made the queen step back hastily as if faced with a coiled adder.

"Oh, Callista..." – he addressed her brusquely, adding insult to injury – "Don't you try to fool a fool! You're not here to parley with me in my defense. It is the amulet that brought you hither. For you thirst to know how I came to know of it, and who else knows of it, and yet you fear the answer I might unleash." – he chuckled, and if only for its dramatic effect.

If possible, Queen Callista became even icier - "Fine, let me be blunt. There is no argument and no witness beneath the sky that you could call upon in your defense! High treason alone stipulates your death, jester, but above this, you have brought mindless death down on the city, simply to make it suffer for your personal satisfaction."

The jester cackled merrily – "Do not forget my attempt to take the crown off your husband's head. Together with his head..."

"The theft of a magical instrument out of the Tower weighs just as heavily against you." - ignored the queen his comment – "Nobody knew about the amulet except for Sir Astor and myself. I put it beyond Sir Astor to be unguarded even on half as private a matter, just as I have not spoken to a soul about it. I command you to tell me: how came you to knew of it!"

The smile stretched wider on the jester's face and he banged his head against the wall with increased vigor. But he didn't speak.

Minutes passed. Queen Callista broke the unbearable silence at last - "Whatever hopes I might have had of gaining an illuminating answer, I see it is lost in the abyss of your mind. Our conversation is leading us nowhere" – she turned to go - "May the Sacred Kats have mercy on your soul."

"The Council will be highly interested in my testimony." - called the jester after her. It instantly made her stop.

"What?"

"The Council. Even you can't ignore the fact that the decree for my execution will have to pass the Council. They will question me in this matter and I daresay my words will blow them away!" - he shot her a gloating look – "Their queen - a witch!"

For the jester her sharp intake of breath was sweeter than her perfume.

"Did you think I hadn't noticed, Callista? I've known it even before you tried that weak spell on me in the Tower. You-are-a-wi-hi-tch" – he chanted tauntingly.

"You asked me for bluntness. Now be blunt yourself! What do you want?"

"What else than the obvious: my life and my liberty!"

"Even someone as you should realize that your toothless threat won't have such a power over me!"

"Toothless? Do not belittle my wits; you fear the day your sorcery powers will be made public. Why, else, would you train in secret? Your future, nay the future of whole Megalith, may wilt with the disclosure of your nature. My freedom in exchange for keeping your secret safe – I say it's a fair trade!"

The queen came nearer again and wrung the iron bars with her hands. Her gaze was steel, as was her voice – "You have deeply mistaken me if you think I could be blackmailed thus! There will be no trade; the Council won't hear anything from your mouth!"

"Hahaha..." – bellowed the jester – "You can't leave the Council out of such a grave decision!"

"I can, and I swear I will! I won't let you abuse the Council for your destructive schemes, nor will I let you taint our city any more with your madness than you have done already. Your life you shall have, yes: I'll let you rot in this cell for your hideous crimes, madkat!"

The jester became solemn in an instant. His eyes flashed brighter than ever, a malignant green that paled as fast as it had appeared. Then the color faded away completely, and darkness hid the contempt on his face.

"I changed my mind, queen. How remorseful I am to see you are so well! I should have killed you when I had the chance. But be assured: I'll be revenged on you for this! Now go. Your presence wounds my ears and impairs my sight. Go!"

He closed his eyes and rocked back and forth on the floor of the cell, always whispering to himself, sometimes hurling his torso against the walls.

"All but two shall live... All but two shall live..."

When he opened his eyes again, Queen Callista was gone.

More time passed, unheeded by the jester. He continued his rocking until hunger made him stop and grope around on the floor for something eatable. His fingers found the wooden bowl and he overturned it with his overhasty movements. It didn't matter, as it luckily didn't contain another potion of the watery insipid pepper stew they had 'fattened' him up with lately. The dish was porridge, just as cold as the stew would have been, but at least he could still eat it from the floor...

"Mhhh; tasty..."

The jester lifted his head out of the small heap of porridge to see who had spoken. An unfamiliar figure stood before his cell.

"Who are you?" – he asked him, wiping porridge from his mouth with his sleeve.

"I am... the jester!" – said his visitor, with a long, pregnant pause in the middle of the sentence.

That brought the prisoner to his feet and to the door of his cell in a heartbeat. He took a closer look at the stranger. If not for the pale fur that shimmered a sickly yellow in the faint light, the vis-à-vis could've been his twin. He had nearly the same height, the same slightly lopsided grin and wore a similar red-beige cap-crowned costume that (to the imprisoned jester's immense satisfaction) clashed gruesomely with his coat color. But, judging from his looks, he was ten years the younger. As old as the jester would have been if the Gray Devil hadn't aged him with a spell... That made him seethe.

"*I* AM THE JESTER!"

"No, I am! You *might have been* the jester once. Now you are a swine eating from the floor!" – Even his opponent's laugh was a foul copy of his own.

The jester grinned back with an evil smile – "Then at least I know my place, whereas you certainly don't! Being the king's lapdog you're only allowed to sit at his side, not to stroll around in his playground on your own!"

"A jester can go almost everywhere he likes, and nobody looks at him twice. You above all ought to know that." – the visitor made a dramatic effort to inspect the thick cell bars – "But maybe you've forgotten about that lucky privilege somehow..."

"As you will, after my loose tongue lets slip our little encounter to a guard."

"Tush, tush, never tell. Who would believe a confined madkat?"

"What do you want from me?" – snarled the jester, irritated.

"Words, words, words."

"Why would you believe a confined madkat?"

"I don't have to. As long as my ale-loving listeners *might* believe your words, I have a good story to tell. A story that makes me friends, and friends that foot my bill."

"You're not the new jester, you're a newt then!" – guffawed the jester – "You should sway back to the taverns, Newt. There is no story for you here!"

"Oh, but there is! My nose never lies to me."

"But only because it cannot talk! Hahaha..."

"You certainly *are* crazy! But madness alone cannot be the reason for your imprisonment, or this cell would burst with company. What was your offense that they hid you down here? Did you molest a chambermaid? Or maybe a minnesinger... Did you poison the royal fowls, or wound that Mystical Knight, what's-his-name? Did you switch..."

"What! Wounded?"

"Ah! So you..." – exclaimed the jester he'd just named Newt, only to lose his enthusiasm as he draw his own conclusion – "But no, you couldn't have injured him. I heard Queen Callista tell the Chief Healer about some magical damage to his body. Your awful jokes may be deadly, but they're certainly not magical! What is this knight to you, and you to him, that his condition excites you so much?"

Here was the one chance for the jester to tell his story and to denounce Callista as a witch. Yet if, apart from the royal couple and Sir Khronos, there was one kat alive the jester loathed as much as this cocky counterfeit of his, he hadn't yet met him. He certainly wasn't going to reveal anything to this tavern drunkard!

"He was the one who imprisoned me." – he answered evasively instead – "Will he make it?"

"The Chief Healer thinks so. It seems that's some more bad luck for you, eh, fool?" – said Newt, uncaring, but obviously pleased that he could tease the prisoner with his bits of knowledge – "Back to my story! I gave you some information, now you can do the same..."

"Okay, here's a treat for you!" – he beckoned Newt nearer to his cell, who was more than eager to follow – "If you want a story, go to the stable in the very south of the outer city ring."

He dropped his voice conspiratorially - "There you might still find some living beings in Megalith that might take to you: a few really stupid asses! Hahaha. I will tell you nothing, Newt!"

The blonde-furred visitor grimaced with disdain - "Then our one and only combined show is over, fool! And now, if you excuse me, I will take the liberty to go where you can't follow me."

"Yes, into thy grave!"

The entertainer locked eyes with him - "What was that?"

"You heard me well enough, Newt. You took my place. I'll be revenged on you for that. And on the king, queen and knight who imprisoned me."

His visitor roared with laughter – "I'd like you see try it. You as surely will be able to take revenge on anyone as you will be able to walk out of this cell and see the sun again."

"Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun, it shines everywhere."

"Not for you, poor tom, it doesn't! But my thanks to you for this highly amusing anecdote! It's rather short but I'll embellish it sufficiently and title it 'The tale of MadKat – The jester who went mad because I took his place'. My nose didn't lie. Our meeting will be buying me a few drinks after all!" – he laughed and quickly strode from the dungeon.

"I'LL HAVE MY REVENGE ON YOU!" – screamed the jester after him – "AND ON THE KING, QUEEN AND KNIGHT WHO IMPRISONED ME!" – his voice became a chill growl – "Sir Khronos!"

**To be continued...**

* * *

**

Glossary

**

**

Characters

**

The Royal House of Megalith:   
Maurice Dagobert deManx XIII - _King of Megalith City._   
Dame Callista - _Queen of Megalith City, his wife._

The Court of Megalith:   
Chief Healer - _The King's private healer._   
Jester - _Former jester to the King._   
Newt - _Present jester to the King._   
DeRelieu - _A noble._   
Simon - _A squire._

The Mystical Knights:   
Sir Astor - _The Arch-Mage, leader of the Mystical Knights and counselor to the King and Queen._   
Sir Eolos - _Mystical Knight._   
Sir Hydor - _Mystical Knight._   
Sir Khronos - _Mystical Knight._   
Sir Pyros - _Mystical Knight._   
Sir Telluros - _Mystical Knight._

The Court of Darkwater:   
Emilio of Darkwater - _The King of Darkwater Castle._   
Lord Tyrakks - _King Darkwater's kat; a warrior._   
Edgar - _Knight in the duty of Lord Tyrakks; his personal servant._   
Sir Anthros - _Knight in the duty of Lord Tyrakks._   
Glorivald - _Knight in the duty of Lord Tyrakks._   
Julius - _Knight in the duty of Lord Tyrakks._   
Leitner - _Knight in the duty of Lord Tyrakks._   
Malthus - _Knight in the duty of Lord Tyrakks._   
Marcus - _Knight in the duty of Lord Tyrakks._   
Phileas - _Knight in the duty of Lord Tyrakks._

**

Names

**

The Council - _Seven high-ranking citizens of Megalith City who, as a group, have been given the power by King deManx to co-determine on his gravest decisions; set up to prevent the possible abuse of the monarchical power (as it had occurred in other kingdoms), the Council has never so far had any reason to disagree with the king's wise ruling._   
The Purple Company - _The unity of at least one battalion of Megalith City's soldiers and a few or all Mystical Knights accompanying them for protection and help by the means of magic; named after the dark purple robes of the Mystical Knights._   
The Tower - _The tower of the Mystical Knights; the highest tower in the land, with a mechanic clock fitted in under its roof._

**

Places

**

Bard's Horn - _A tower and the surrounding lands in southeastern Megalith Kingdom; theatre of a great battle between King deManx's and King Darkwater's armies._   
Megalith City - _The greatest city and golden heart of Megalith Kingdom; court of King deManx and Queen Callista._


	2. Part 2: Crossroads of Fate

**TITLE: DUTY AND DESIRE Part 2: Crossroads of Fate**

**AUTHORS:** C. L. Furlong & Helion

**BEGUN:** November 30, 2003

**FINISHED:** April 11, 2004

**LAST REVISION:** October 31, 2005

**E-MAIL:**   
_C. L. Furlong:_ clfurlongaeiou.pt   
_Helion:_ helion (dot) regret (at) gmx (dot) net (Yeah, I do have problems with spam mail, hence this complicated listing )

**RATING / WARNINGS:** M for violent content and gore (implicit and graphic) and swearing.

**SUMMARY:** When, years before the SWAT Kats will unintentionally visit Megalith City's magnificent halls, duty and desire cause the paths of two different kats to cross, the future of a whole kingdom is suddenly connected directly with their fates.

**DISCLAIMER:** SWAT Kats and anything related to the series is the property of Hanna-Barbera. No infringement is intended and no profit is gained with this fiction.

**COMMENTS:**   
Hello there, SK fans. So, here's, at last, the second part of this ongoing epic. If Part One has had an elephantine birth, as my co-author and friend pointed in this section last time, this part was not an easy enterprise as well. I hope the long delay hasn't driven away our readers from the fate of Khronos and his comrades but rather fuelled their desire to know how the brave knight fares. I am really to blame for this two-year delay for my personal and professional life as a teacher and a student came in the way of the development of this story. Besides that, both Helion and I agreed to withhold the submission of both Part Two and Part Three so that we could have the whole story in our hands in its written form. We did so in hopes of wiping out any plotline errors or inconsistencies that might have lingered around and could only be detected after having written most of the text. I believe the result is satisfactory for both of us and I hope this story is at least as appealing to all you SK fans as it has been to us.   
I indeed have to thank my co-author, Helion, both for his almost divine patience towards me and for his masterly crafted pieces of writing, for it is my strong belief that this story wasn't likely to have the luster it has if not for him. I'm also beholden to some writing personalities that much helped me get a grasp on the dark-age and mystical imagery surrounding this story, which was enlightened by their works. Names as Harry Turtledove, James Patterson and, of course, J. R. R. Tolkien are here, thus, remembered and thanked.   
Also the inspiration provided by the musical piece "Requiem for a Dream", by Clint Mansell, helped me craft some of the battle scenes. I think they were better written (and read) when hearing that particular musical score. Well, enough's been said! Time just to point that this fiction is unrelated to my "Final Resistance" series (which is far from dead...).   
_ C. L. Furlong_

Wow. I just realized that it's been 23 months since we started this story. Therefore, welcome back, dear reader, and thanks for joining us again after such an extensive hiatus! I'll try to keep my comments short, but there are a few notes on the text I would like to mention:   
First of all, there is a short synopsis of Part 1 at the beginning of this file, for those of you who want to delve into Part 2 without re-reading the beginning of the story.   
Secondly, as C.L. already said, Part 3 is nearly complete, too. Once some finishing makeover is complete, it should be posted here, too. That should hopefully happen within the next few weeks (read: November)!   
Thirdly, "Duty and Desire" is a 4-part story, but Parts 1-3 are a self-contained unit within the whole text. This means, even if it should take another two years to finish that part (or even if Part 4 will never see the light of day), there is no cliffhanger situation once you've reached the end of Part 3!   
Fourthly, I have to thank my dear friend and co-writer C. L. Furlong, as he is the motor of the story. He denies that in regard to Part 2, but he truly is the writing force behind many, many scenes here and almost all the scenes in the upcoming third part. Denial or not, thanks for keeping the vehicle running, pal!   
Fifthly, should you (either in Part 1 or 2) stumble across any quotes from one or two Shakespearean works (especially from "Hamlet") that are not specifically marked as such, do not blame C. L., for this is my doing! Sorry, I just couldn't resist putting those things in, and I hope I still get the chance to add a few more of the Bard's quibbles (or of one of his contemporaries) in Part 3.   
_ Helion_

A glossary explaining the names of chracters, places and peculiarities that appear in Part 2 of the story is given at the end of this text.

**SYNOPSIS PART 1:**The Dark Ages. Megalith Kingdom's bravest warriors have just returned from the battlefield. They are led by the Mystical Knights: five kats with the rare gift of magic, who are also named the Purple Raiders after the color of the cloaks they are wearing. They are taught by their mentor, Sir Astor, to protect Megalith City against all evil. Yet unbeknownst to them, new trouble is already stirring. Infuriated about being replaced, the king's mad jester has vowed revenge. He leaves the city and joins with a small force of warriors. Ten kats in total, the small group infiltrates Megalith Castle at the night of the return feast, intent on killing the royal couple, King deManx XIII and his wife, Queen Callista. The jester has his own secret agenda, though. While his accomplices battle with the Mystical Knights, he sneaks to their deserted headquarters, the Tower, where he knows an object of immense power is stored. Queen Callista sneaks to the Tower, too, intend on retrieving a jade amulet. It is Sir Astor's gift to her, an instrument that enhances a kat's ability in the magics, for the old mentor secretly teaches her in the magics as well. Before Callista can reach the amulet, though, the jester takes it, for it is the very same thing he is after. Drawing upon its power, the jester attacks the queen, but any further harm is prevented when Sir Khronos, the most powerful of the five Mystical Knights, intercepts. Sir Khronos and the jester battle with their magics, and the knight manages to defeat his mad opponent, though he gets severely injured in the process. Meanwhile, the other Mystical Knights have defeated the invaders and rush to their wounded comrade's side. The jester is thrown into Megalith Castle's deepest dungeon, where he swears revenge upon the new jester, the king, queen and the knight who imprisoned him.

* * *

**DUTY AND DESIRE**

**PART TWO - CROSSROADS OF FATE**

The first rays of a new dawn cast long dancing shadows upon the barren low hills south of Megalith City, waking up the dormant earth and its inhabitants, stirring them from the cold night they had endured during their sleep. And a cold night indeed it had been. The first icy breaths coming from the Northern regions had approached almost unannounced last night.

A chilling draft entered Khronos' billet and ruffled Sir Astor's woolen white cloak, as well as his hair, which partly lay in disarrange over his forehead. The elder rose from the stool, his respiration visible in the form of conspicuous small clouds as he walked to the side of Khronos' bed. His gaze pierced the thick blanket and sheets and settled on the still form lying on the bed in front of him.

A choice he wished he'd never have to make battled in his mind. Khronos had seemed lifeless for almost three weeks now. Chances were slim, if not non-existent, that he'd ever come out of such trance. What if the Chief Healer couldn't fathom what was ailing the warrior? Would it be kind to let him endure such a state month after month until finally immobility and inactiveness had weakened him to a point where his inert body couldn't resist the unyielding, frigid claw of death any longer?

He uncovered the warrior's body, exposing his bare chest to the biting draft. He noticed that not even a single fur on his torso stood on end, testifying the apparent lifelessness of his pupil.

"There's no other choice... His last deeds were grand and by them he shall be remembered..." - Sir Astor muttered. His face had acquired a grim expression of determination.

He rested his palm on Khronos' chest and closed his eyes, but could not shut out the remembrance of what had passed not quite three weeks ago, after Khronos' battle with the treacherous jester...

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The jester lay limply on the ground, unconscious. Green sparks ravaged Khronos' body as the final embers of the amulet's magic faded away. Then he fell on his back, rigid.

The battle was finally over.

But there was no minute to spare. The fight for Khronos' life had barely begun.

Telluros and Pyros bore their friend's unmoving and bleeding form to his quarters with the speed of dire need, while Hydor and Eolos searched the castle for the Chief Healer equally fast, raising him from his sleep and hastening him to their companion's side.

This was where Sir Astor found them all already gathered when, still weak from his earlier protective spell, he reached Khronos' quarters last. He instantly ordered the Mystical Knights to secure and search the grounds for any possible enemy that might yet have slipped detection. He was aware of the mute objection that shone in their eyes, their urge to defy any order to leave the side of Khronos' sickbed, but he ignored it.

"Is that how you would honor Khronos' sacrifice, by betraying the king's safety in the same night he gave his health to protect him?" - he asked. The four warriors lowered their heads in shame and instantly left the crammed room to fulfill their duty. The Arch Mage looked past the Chief Healer at the lying form of Sir Khronos. The gray fur of Sir Astor's most powerful protégé had dulled to the stony color of ash.

"How is he?" - Sir Astor queried in a low voice. The shadows cast by the crepitant flames of the torches hanging from the rough stony walls accentuated the lines of fretfulness that were carved on the aging kat's face.

He watched closely as the Chief Healer examined the gray-furred tom lying in his bed. The physician shook his head slightly and moved the torch in his hand further towards Khronos' chest.

"I asked..." - the aging kat insisted but he was interrupted in mid-sentence.

"Sir Astor!" - the Healer exclaimed in an impatient tone - "Forgive my rudeness, but I cannot focus on my work if I am constantly interrupted. I am fully aware of your concern for your student but worrying won't do much! I must concentrate on what I'm doing, else, something might slip my eye!"

"Your point is well taken. My apologies. Please, carry on." - Sir Astor muttered as he went to the window and looked to the moonless skies of that ill-fated night.

"As I feared, the wound he gained during Bard's Horn battle reopened." - the Chief Healer reported after several minutes of heavy silence - "It is bleeding again but I think I can take care of that. Apart from some bruises and excoriations, he doesn't seem to have anything broken or any internal damages."

Sir Astor cocked one eyebrow at that verdict. He turned around and came to the still form of his student. Khronos had, in the meantime, broken away from his rigid state. Now it seemed he was merely asleep.

"What about his chest?" - Sir Astor laconically asked.

"What about it?" - the physician replied, confused.

"Khronos was hit by a magical blast right in his chest. The stroke passed through his upper torso and left from his upper back."

"Are you sure?" - the Chief Healer asked, dubiously.

"I do not usually lie, Chief Healer. Nor are my senses impaired. Above all that, I have eyewitnesses." - the aging kat retorted in an icy tone.

The healer gulped on the sly and approached the bed once again. Straining his eyes to see something strange or peculiar at the glimmering red light of the torches, the Chief Healer searched in vain. Khronos' chest fur and skin were virtually undamaged, except for the slash he'd received when he fought against Lord Tyrakks' minions. The physician put his ear to the warrior's chest and listened carefully. It seemed as if all was functioning perfectly. With the help of the elder kat, he turned Khronos so his back was facing up. He proceeded similarly, checking the fur and skin, which were unharmed, leaning over and approaching his ear to the Mystical Knight's back. For a moment, it seemed as though everything was well. But then he heard something strange. It seemed like liquid was running somewhere inside Khronos' chest. The Chief Healer straightened himself up like a bolt.

"You were right!" - he exclaimed - "I don't know what it is, but the sounds I'm hearing are different from those of a healthy kat. Something is happening inside his chest although there are no visible scars or bruises on the outside... This defies everything I've ever seen and know... I must study this case further before I risk a diagnosis..."

"Can't you do anything for now?" - the aging kat queried.

"I must clean and cauterize his wounds, especially that large one on his side and the slash in his chest but as for whatever is happening inside him, I dare not open him... At least, not in that place... The most advanced studies indicate that the innards of a kat's chest are vital and must not be disturbed... I'm sorry but I will not risk opening him in that place..."

"I see... But you can make a prognosis, can you not?"

The Chief Healer frowned and stroked his chin, thinking as hard as he could. Yes, he had a theory but without further study he had no basis for it.

"The only prognosis I can make is that of fluid lodging inside his lungs. I think it may be somewhat similar to the phlegm disease that plagued the kingdom nineteen years ago." - the physician stated out. The Arch-Mage's expression became even graver with such prognosis.

"The rate of morbidity was appallingly high in that year..." - Sir Astor closed his eyes and shook his head, forcing his thoughts to leave the gruesome images of the great plague and focus on the present - "Those are ill news... If Khronos has that disease..."

"I didn't say that!" - the Chief Healer retorted - "Based on the few facts I have been able to gather, that would be my prognosis. However, he does not present any exterior signs of the disease, which adds up to my doubtfulness concerning the presence of such illness inside Khronos. For now, I must repair what I can and then we must let the warrior rest until I figure out what can be done in respect to what is passing inside him."

"May the Sacred Kats hear your words, Chief Healer..." - the Arch-Mage muttered - "May they hear your words..."

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Two days passed without any sign of recovery on Khronos' part. The deep wound on his flank had, once again, been sealed and the blood loss was rapidly contained. After that, the Chief Healer set out on a true quest in order to understand what was going on inside Khronos but all the information he gathered was nothing short of contradictory. In a few words, the royal physician didn't have the slightest clue as to what ailed Khronos.

"What the Healer doesn't understand..." - Sir Astor said as he watched the afternoon's stormy skies - "... is the different nature of this new ailment."

"I believe I understand what you mean, master... Whatever's gnawing at Khronos' insides is not of natural origin." - Telluros stated.

"It is magical... I fear there's nothing the Chief Healer can do about it..." - Eolos muttered between clenched teeth - "It's on occasions like this that I wish magic could be used to heal..."

"You know very well it can't." - Hydor explained - "So you might very well stop thinking about that."

"That's not entirely true..." - Astor thought as the rumble of thunder rolled in the air - "Magic can heal... Although, to do so the practitioner must let go of his life... That's how superior magic works... A life for a life... And there have been enough deaths already..." - the elder closed his eyes just when a lightning bolt crisscrossed the horizon seconds before an explosion boomed over Megalith City.

"There have been enough deaths already." - he repeated aloud - "But I fear more are yet to come."

A short pause followed. Then - "King Darkwater!" - Pyros voiced the problem that had lately been constant on all their minds.

The Arch Mage opened his eyes to find the four knights watching him, awaiting his verdict - "Yes Pyros, King Darkwater. His defeat will only fuel his fury, a fury that has already grown into a raging inferno. What suffering he will cause when it is stirred up further not even I can begin to imagine. Let Khronos' injury and the death of all those brave people of Megalith be a warning against the agony that might yet touch our sacred city. It shall never be! Too long have the king and I pushed this decision away from us; even now I still dread what we must do... But it must be done. For the sake of freedom, King Darkwater must not be allowed to live. The number of his supporters has been waning for long and is now near nil. Only his gruesome strength keeps him the power, but his madness will collapse in on itself with his death. It is the only chance for a peaceful coexistence between the kingdoms of Megalith and Darkwater. King Darkwater must not live! So decrees King deManx XIII, with full support >from the Council.

I will appoint the difficult task to you - our all's safety lies in your hands. What this task - what I - demand from you is stealth and wisdom, not the rashness and boast you have come to like and show too much lately!"

All except Telluros had at least the dignity to blush and look away, and even Telluros wouldn't meet his master's eyes. Sir Astor continued.

"Here is what you will do..." - and he began to describe in detail the secret assassination plan that in a good week's time would lead to Darkwater's end, while the sound of thunder rolled over them in ever-decreasing intervals.

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For a long time Sir Astor had now stood at the side of Khronos' bed, his veined right hand on the chest of his student, but his thoughts far away. The sun had risen to twice its height above the horizon in the meantime and orange light poured into Khronos' billet from outside. It borrowed a warm tinge to the dispossessed gray walls and finally brought Sir Astor back to the present. It brought back, too, the dreadful decision he had made... A last time he watched his pupil, then he pressed Khronos down with his hand and started chanting in a whisper. All of a sudden, the light inside the Mystical Knight's quarters faded into shadows.

"May the Sacred Kats forgive my actions..." - he thought as the spell neared its completion. Suddenly, Khronos grunted in a low voice. Sir Astor withdrew his hand immediately. His mien was a mask of consternation and confusion. That was the first sign of life Khronos had given in almost twenty days. Shortly after his grunt, the gray-furred warrior gasped out aloud. Then he quieted down once more. However, Sir Astor looked, dumbfounded, as the fur on the warrior's bare chest stood on end with coldness. Soon enough, the resting kat started shivering slightly.

"Sacred Kats... This cannot be!" - Sir Astor mumbled in astonishment as he covered Khronos with the sheets and the woolen blanket. In a few minutes, not only the Chief Healer but all the other Mystical Knights, who only last night had come back from their successful covert mission, were there. Once more, the small room had to accommodate too many, and too animated, people.

"This is flummoxing! The sounds I've spoken of weeks ago are gone!" - the middle-aged physician stated with his ear glued to Khronos' back - "He sounds like a normal healthy kat!" - the Healer straightened himself up and pierced Sir Astor with an inquisitorial gaze - "How did this happen?"

"I do not know! I simply stood here, watching over him when he grunted, followed close by a gasp." - the aging tom explained. Suddenly, Khronos grunted aloud and his eyelids started shivering. Seconds later, he slowly opened his eyes.

"Sinister have been my dreams as of late." - the gray-furred warrior muttered almost unintelligibly. He then groaned in pain as he slowly groped his forehead. - "Oh, my aching head..."

When Khronos finally recollected himself, he realized he was not alone. He looked to the inquisitorial faces of his comrades, his master and the Chief Healer, not grasping the reason for their presence in his quarters. Pyros finally broke the silence.

"Khronos? Are you well?"

"Apart from this terrible headache, I'm quite well! Seems like I've drunk too much of that wine with you, Telluros..." - Khronos answered. However, everyone was taken back one step, as though they had been burnt. Their faces bore a mixture of surprise and fear.

"What... What happened to your voice?" - Hydor questioned.

"What do you mean?" - the gray-furred rider asked back, cocking one eyebrow.

"Can't you hear yourself?" - Eolos inquired - "You don't sound like your old self... Your voice... It's... it's... changed." - he finally managed to say aloud. The unspeakable thought, however, that was on his mind was - "his voice lost all its warmth... as though a chill had rooted in his throat..."

"What? Are you mad? And I thought I drank too much last night... You're no better yourselves, I see!" - Khronos scoffed.

"Your comrades are correct, Khronos." - Sir Astor intervened - "You sound different. More malicious, colder... I cannot describe it better. However, it suits you better as a warrior. A warm-voiced fighter does not inflict the same impact on the enemy as a cruel-voiced one."

"But... I sense no difference in me..." - Khronos said.

"Khronos, can you remember anything that happened to you?" - Pyros asked.

"Well, like I said, I must have imbibed myself in spirits during the feast. Last I remember I was drinking a goblet of wine with you, Telluros. I was enjoying myself very much last night. I suppose being javelined at Bard's Horn gave me the appetite for a good celebration. That's all I can remember. Probably I got drunk and passed out, did I?"

"You don't remember the invasion? Or the battle that ensued?" - "Eolos queried. The other kats present seconded Eolos' questions. But Khronos didn't remember anything. All the pain and suffering he endured that night had been erased from his mind.

"This is most peculiar..." - Telluros stated, puzzled.

"Not quite." - the Chief Healer intervened - "There have been documented cases of loss of memory and sometimes madness arising from severe blows to the head. You told me he fell on his back at the end of the battle, right? He must have knocked his head against the floor then, causing this failure to recollect past events."

"What about the change in his voice?" - Pyros questioned.

"I do believe the answer to that is quite obvious, is it not? My belief is that whatever was at work inside his chest caused his voice to change. Apparently, our young hero seems to have made Fortune smile to him. It's not often that someone survives after getting wounded in war and then during a battle to save his king." - The Chief Healer pointed out as he walked towards Khronos. The physician examined the gray-furred warrior thoroughly, resting his ear against Khronos chest and back once more to be assured that the sounds of liquid lodging inside his lungs were definitely a thing of the past.

"Well, Healer? What's the verdict?" - Sir Astor queried, with a note of impatience in his voice.

"Our young tom seems to be well. I'd recommend one or two days of rest before getting him started in his trainings. Well, I believe I am no longer needed here. Good day to all!" - the Chief Healer said before leaving.

"The Chief Healer might be convinced the change in your voice was the result of whatever was gnawing inside your chest, and with that I have absolutely no problem, since I have a similar belief." - Sir Astor stated after the departure of the royal physician - "However, not even he could say what it was that was affecting your lungs, Khronos. Aye, your voice changed, but not by natural reasons... It changed because of foul witchcraft..."

"Why do you say this?" - Khronos asked.

"Because we all saw what happened when you fought that mad jester. He put a spell on you. We all saw the green ray of energy leaving his hand and hitting you in the chest. The spell was so powerful the beam left you by your back." - Hydor explained.

"And the magical overload the amulet let out over you didn't help either..." - Sir Astor somberly thought as he reminded himself of the shattered talisman. He then addressed his pupils, as if completing his thoughts aloud - "And that is a good reason to follow the Chief Healer's instructions. Come. We should let Khronos rest."

"More than he did in these three weeks?" - Pyros commented in a jocose tone, which granted him some fulminating stares from both his comrades and his master - "I was being flippant, my friends!"

"With your permission, master, I would like to stay." - Eolos asked.

"As long as only one of us stays and does not disturb Khronos, I give you permission, Eolos." - the graying tom responded before heading out, followed by his students. Eolos respectfully bowed his head to his mentor before bringing the wooden stool near the window to Khronos' side.

He waited in silence until the noises of the streets had swallowed his master's footsteps. A smirk spread on his face.

"Actually, disturbing you is the only reason I'm here, my friend. Pyros wasn't that wrong with what he said - you did miss out on those last three weeks. I guess you thirst for some news rather than for another round of sleep, am I not right?"

Khronos nodded. - "But first... I thirst for some water. My throat is on fire."

"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer more of that wine..." - He laughed as he saw the look on his friend's face. - "No, I didn't think so. Well, the king's steward himself has been bringing a bucket of fresh water from the king's private well each day. I'm sure there's a full bucket in the antechamber. I'll get you a cupful."

Eolos left the room and Khronos raised his torso carefully. He had to digest all the new information. They said he'd slept for three whole weeks, but it couldn't be, could it... That he'd been magically assaulted... Khronos felt his chest with his right hand. The still flaming red spear wound scar was larger than he remembered, but there were no rank smell or suppurating fluids. Nor had it reopened when he'd sat up. It was healing fine, just as it had before the feast... His voice had changed...? Again he felt his chest. Nothing seemed to be different...

"It is as I thought..." - Eolos' voice flooded in from the next room - "There's enough water in here to quench even a greedy donkey's thirst. The steward would've done better to water the nearby vegetation with the surplus water. All the flowers inside and surrounding your house have wilted!"

But Khronos wasn't listening. An unexpected terror had pulled him out of his reverie. If he had lain here for the last three weeks with the other Mystical Knights constantly standing watch over him, maybe they had discovered...

His eyes raced anxiously across the room, searching the spot where his most prized belongings lay hidden. What if they had found the watch...? Or... The...

"Here, my friend." - Eolo's slender form crossed his line of sight and that, more than the words, drew him back to the present. It took Khronos a moment to realize that Eolos had thrust something into his hand. He forced himself to look down.

The passed cup felt cold to the touch. The surface of the water within showed a distorted version of his emaciated face. Khronos took a small gulp. The liquid was pleasantly cool. He drained the whole cup.

"I'd better start giving you a rough sketch of what happened and let you sleep thereafter. It wouldn't surprise me if Sir Astor still makes a visit later, to see whether or not I keep to his orders not to disturb you too much. I'm not keen on sweeping the Tower every day for the rest of my life... That is... if there's no fine brawl or a noble maid won as compensation!

On the evening of the feast, we were attacked by..."

"WE?" - Khronos' newly sprouted laugh got wedged in his throat - "You mean... the whole castle! How fares Queen Callista?" - he shouted panic-stricken. And after a pause in which Eolos eyed him silently, he added as a quieter afterthought - "And the king?"

"No harm has been done to His and Her Majesty. You stopped Darkwater's traitor just in time before he could kill King deManx."

"Darkwater..." - mumbled Khronos, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. Fate had played its bitter tune with him and, by making him forget about his part, robbed him of all soothing explanations for his actions.

"Yes, King Darkwater. His greedy schemes were his death, but..."

"He's dead? When...?"

"BUT," - Eolos continued undeterred - "you're making me jump to the end too soon. It's best to start at the beginning of the tale. Lie back and listen..."

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Around the same time, inside the castle, the Arch Mage bowed before the queen.

"Our first training session in more than a month and you're late. Sir Astor, this is highly unusual for you." - she said with a faint smile.

"I'm afraid, milady, that I must leave you unusually early as well. I bear news for the king."

"About Sir Khronos? Sir Astor, tell me, is there any news about the condition of our brave warrior?"

"There is indeed, and good news at that. Sir Khronos has finally awakened!"

"I must go see him at once" - the queen exclaimed, delighted.

"And I vehemently must object to that, my queen!"

Queen Callista's angry look told him without words that he was on the brink of overstepping his boundaries.

Sir Astor continued, calmer but no less firm - "He is still weak and the assault has left its traces on him. His wound still isn't fully healed, his voice will stay raw, changed by the damage the magic of the amulet has done to his body, and he has lost his memory of the attack altogether."

The queen covered her mouth with a trembling hand.

"However, his strength is not the main reason why I object to your going. Sir Khronos doesn't remember anything of what happened after the feast, including... this."

From somewhere inside his robe he produced a golden chain. As he pulled it out completely, Queen Callista could see the heavy emerald stone that dangled at its end. Her eyes widened.

"The amulet!"

"My queen, as much as I wanted Khronos to wake up, it is a very fortunate circumstance that he can't remember the amulet, or anything that happened between Your Highness, the jester and himself in the Tower..."

"Yes, how very convenient..." - spoke the queen bitterly.

"You are doing me most wrong, my queen..." - the Arch Mage said, and there must've been traces of his hurt in his voice, for Queen Callista's stare softened - "This is not about denying Sir Khronos the public honor he deserves for saving our beloved queen from the attack in the Tower, as Your Highness knows well enough! This is about saving our kingdom from the dangers open words about your training would unleash. Your powers in the magics equal those of Sir Khronos, and the world hasn't seen powers of his might in almost a century."

"That's not true!" - objected the queen - "Your powers are greater still than those of Sir Khronos, or mine!"

"Yes, but when the people watch me, they only see an aged kat whose time is nearly used up." - He raised a hand to stop the queen from protesting to what they both knew was true - "But you, my noble queen, are young and strong, prudent and determined. Many would find in that a threat to their own schemes. Others would follow Emilio of Darkwater in sprouting a grudge against our kingdom...

It is our duty to protect Your Highness, as it is Your Highness's duty to protect Megalith Kingdom. Until you are fully trained, words of your powers would endanger our realm, not strengthen it!"

The queen's shoulders sagged as she relented - "The age now following Darkwater's demise promises peace and prosperity. I wouldn't be worthy to wear the crown if I risked my subjects' good fortune for my personal desires."

Sir Astor smiled - "Seldom has this crown ornamented a worthier head than yours. Wise you may be, and loyal and good, but it is the rare gift of understanding that raises you to a queen amongst queens. Milady, I only ask you to delay your meeting Sir Khronos until the day of your husband's small celebration for his victory over King Darkwater. By then we will know more about Khronos' condition. Nevertheless, my queen, I must ask you not to mention the Tower incident to Sir Khronos when you will see him!"

"I give you my word, Sir Astor!"

The Arch Mage beamed at her. He held out the hand with the amulet - "I realized this amulet is kept safer with you than it is kept in the Tower. Queen Callista, I'd like you to wear it all the time, in case you need its powers urgently. If you don't use it, nobody - not even those perceptible to magic - will think it anything but an ordinary piece of jewelry. My queen...?"

He waited until she gave him a nod, then fastened the chain around her neck.

"Is this the amulet that was broken?" - the queen asked.

"The very same."

"How...?"

"I think this matter is better left untouched..." - said the Arch Mage uncomfortably.

"And I think it is not!" - the queen replied. Her voice was steel once more - "Your words, Sir Astor: it is my duty to protect our kingdom. The matter of this amulet is part of that duty. You never explained where it came from, or how a simple jester could turn it into a weapon of hell. It was beyond any blacksmith's capacity to mend and at this moment you're telling me it's whole again. Now is the time for answers. And I will have them!"

A minute passed in which both kats eyed each other in silence. Then the elder bowed again, lower than before.

"You are truly a queen amongst queens." - he said, admiration and pride filling his voice - "My apologies, my queen. Of course you are entitled to knowing the nature of this magical item.

The amulet is my creation, its recent remaking of my doing as well. Both need a kat mighty in the magics who has mastered the difficult task of creating magic receptacles. I am the only wizard alive with that knowledge, a knowledge so dangerous that it will die with me."

"Why do you keep saying that death will embrace you soon?" - queried the queen - "You are still..."

"Milady, I am old," - the Arch Mage put it bluntly - "I might not look it, but I have already been blessed to live twice as long as the most kats. I can feel the advancing winter in my tired old bones, and for a long time now I have been feeling the approach of the cold season, more aggressive and intense each year. As I've been around ever since they can remember, people think I will be around forever, yet I know my time to depart has slowly come. Two or three more years, five if the Sacred Kats will grant them, then one of the younger knights will have to take my place. Telluros presumably."

The queen looked shaken.

"Do not mourn, Queen Callista. I am not dead yet, nor do I fear the path that lies before me. But I can't close myself from the truth either. My end is nigh, and there are many objectives I have to complete before the end - your training, for instance."

Again a mantle of silence hung in the room, this time covering it with an air of grief. Finally the queen spoke up softly.

"You still haven't explained the nature of those magical items, Sir Astor!"

Her resoluteness made the elder smile.

"Yes, my queen. They are vessels for magical energy. Their creator transfers some small or greater part of his powers into them during the process of creation. Thus, without the receptacle, the magician becomes weaker than he was before, but wearing it he can draw on the enclosed energy to magnify his powers many times beyond his initial limit. And as you know by your training, this works for the wearer even if he isn't the creator of the receptacle."

"But the jester is no Mystical Knight..."

"No, but not all kats sensitive to magic become Mystical Knights. Many can sense magic, but not actually wield it, or barely wield more than a spark of it. Such a kat is the jester. His powers were far too weak to enable him a life as a magic warrior. The amulet nullified his weakness. Therein lies the danger of a receptacle and that is the reason why I do not want the knowledge of how to create them spread."

"Not even among the Mystical Knights?"

"Not even among ourselves, milady. Not only would it be disastrous if a receptacle fell into the wrong hands again, but also just Khronos, Telluros and maybe Eolos have the prowess needed to create them. I do not wish to stir up any enmity between my five protégés... No, my queen, Megalith City and the Mystical Knights will have to do without this dangerous wisdom in the future. And to tell the truth, if it weren't for the severe need to complete your training in such a brief time span, I wouldn't have restored this amulet either! The spell to create or re-create receptacles is the most difficult spell I've ever encountered, highly dangerous to the wielder, for in the worst case it can even burn him out."

To Queen Callista the chain around her neck suddenly seemed to weigh ten times of what it had weighed before. She gulped surreptitiously - "I see. I will keep it safe, for the sake of our kingdom."

"I am overjoyed to hear this, my queen. But I must ask you not to use the amulet's powers unless dire need demands it. It was safe to teach the mastering of a receptacle while my pupils were gone from the city. Now that they are back, Khronos and Telluros at least would feel it when someone draws on the powers stored in it, for they are the strongest in our midst, and thus the highest sensitive to magic. We will continue our training with the receptacle far outside the city grounds, where they won't be able to feel the emanations, but whenever we have to confine to this room, secrecy demands that we restrain our sessions to channeling our inner powers."

"I understand."

The Arch Mage inclined his head elegantly - "And now, my queen, it is really time for me to report to your husband. With your permission I will return tomorrow at night, to resume today's training."

The queen nodded her consent.

"My queen..." - Sir Astor bowed one last time and made to go.

"Sir Astor..."

"Yes, my queen?"

"I highly appreciate your council!"

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Night slowly crept forth outside the castle and with it came the frigid gusts of winter wind. It was around that hour that Sir Astor came to Khronos' quarters to see how the young tom was doing. The aging kat found the room dark and no signs either of Eolos or any of his comrades. The heavy breathing of Khronos came to his ears, telling him his pupil was sound asleep. The Arch Mage smiled paternally in the dark before closing the door ever so slowly.

Not a moment had passed after Sir Astor's departure when Khronos sat up and got off his bed. Dressing his winter cloak, made out of pure wool, he went to the window. He looked to the dark skies. Behind whispers of clouds he could still see the waning moon. A distant rumble of thunder rolled in the sky and the air was heavy, still, as though on the brink of a storm.

The gray-furred tom stepped away from the window and headed for the small table in front of his bed. With a single gesture, he lit both candles standing on top of it. A pallid red flare filled the darkness of his room, barely illuminating his studying table. Stacked up against one corner were a few old-looking tomes. He retrieved a book from the center of the stack and placed it between the candles. The book's cover was in the color bordeaux, with only a fine golden string flanking the edges.

Khronos closed his eyes and began chanting in almost an inaudible tone. While he chanted, he drew a circle on the book's cover with the palm of his hand. Inside the circle, he gestured a triangle and finally, inside the triangle he drew a vertical line from its summit down to the middle of its base. In the featureless cover the designs Khronos had gestured appeared with a golden glow as he withdrew his hand. Suddenly, the tome opened up and the pages turned wildly until the page where his last note was written appeared. Only then did he stop chanting and opened his eyes. He took the writing goose feather from its stand, dipped its nib into the writing fluid stored in a small metallic vial and started writing.

"There is a frenzy in my mind these days. According to my comrades, I stopped a deadly foe of His Highness King deManx. Yet, I retain no memory of these events. They say my voice changed as a result of a mystical attack from that same foe and yet again I sense no alteration in me.

Are they telling me the truth? Or is this a very well constructed plot? Did they discover something? Anything? Truth be told, I've been careless of late. Careless with my thoughts, my feelings... Sir Astor is cunning... Very cunning. So is Telluros.

But, for all their astuteness, I think I have one advantage... My possessions remain hidden well out of sight. I'm surprised the spell I cast upon them worked so well. Even Sir Astor didn't seem to notice anything.

Sir Astor... My mentor... All I am I owe to him... I'll make you proud of me, master. I have been studying a form of magecraft that hasn't been seen upon these lands for centuries now. I believe I have finally decoded it: the art of producing magic receptacles.

But I'm trailing off. I saved the king's life, they say... They say I am a hero and that I should be proud of myself... When I first became a Mystical Knight I made an oath of honor: that I would lay down my life for my king and serve him until death came to me or he relieved me of duty. There's no greater honor than to defend and die for my king...

For my rival...

My king, my foe! My foe, my king! For the one that stands between me and the love of my life must be considered a foe! For a foe is the one who dared marrying that which pales the sun and makes the glorious golden skies hide behind clouds in shame.

Callista! My body, my heart, my soul longs for you, for the Queen of queens, for the one whose beauty is envied by, yet cannot be compared neither to, the sun, the skies, the seas and the flowers!

Oh, cruel fate, oh horrid destiny! To be so close and yet so far away... This love is never meant to be. She is my queen and I am only a knight in the service of my lord, the king... Her husband... I am caught in this foul crossroads ..."

Khronos clenched his teeth and tightened the grip around the feather. His light handwriting suddenly turned heavy and bleak.

"My king! Callista is his but for an unfortunate mishap. She could have been mine! She SHOULD have been mine! It is an honor to die for my king, aye... But I would lay down all my nine lives, my body, my soul only for a single kiss from her..."

The gray-furred tom lightened the grip on the feather. He paused for a moment as if unsure of what to write next. He dipped the nib into the writing fluid once more. With a slightly trembling hand, he resumed his writing.

"The news Eolos transmitted to me earlier this morning carries a shred of hope, though... A mad jester, he said... Perhaps I can use him... Perhaps, if all goes well... It is a desperate ploy that needs maturing... Yet I am a desperate tom. I despair for love, for her love...

I have the nagging feeling the room is getting darker... It does not seem the fault of the candles I lit though... For whatever the reason, it soothes me..."

He placed the feather in its stand and closed the book, repeating the same protective magic ritual as before, only backwards. That done, he went to the window, where he sat on the stool. From some inner pouch on his cloak, he produced a pipe and some smoke herbs. He ignited his pipe and sucked in a generous breath, exhaling the smoke dilatorily. Soon enough, he was sunk in his own thoughts.

Clouds wheeled overhead as a new storm approached from the North. The breeze turned into a freezing constant wind that ruffled Khronos' hair. He reached for his pocket and retrieved a small round object. The gold of the casing felt warm to the touch and it glittered faintly at the wan light of the moon when it showed its face between the clouds. He looked at the artifact he'd been secretly tinkering with for months on end now. It was a hand-held replica of the giant clock fitted into Megalith City's clock tower and a true work of art. Khronos was one of the few who mastered the fine art of building timepieces. However, instead of dedicating himself to build large clocks, like the one in the Tower, he had dedicated himself to building a hand-held miniature. For him it was the ultimate challenge; it was also his pride and joy. To his knowledge, no one to date had managed to miniaturize those beautiful clocks, except for him. He held it near to his chest, affectionately, closing his eyes.

He loved that watch almost as much as he loved his Queen.

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Morning came without a sun. The world was bathed in a gray shadow that mirrored the heavy rain clouds that hovered above the citadel of Megalith. A drowsy humdrum rain had started falling and remained for the rest of the day and night. Horns blared near the gates, announcing that it was time for the first shift of the guard.

It was this sound that awoke Khronos. He unwillingly sat up in his bed. His mind was a tourbillion of thoughts. Night hadn't been as good an advisor as he'd hoped it would be. The determination he had built up over the last hours had been fueled by the darkness and was now a frail remembrance in the light of the early day.

Khronos sat in silence for long minutes, his stare lost in the distance. After that time, he blinked and his eyes acquired a steely glimmer.

"Get a hold on yourself, Khronos. There is no choice... There was never a choice!" - he said aloud - "Callista is waiting for you! Don't pretend you don't see the interest she deposits over you! She cried your name when you fell from your horse. She came here when you got speared... If you falter now, you'll never succeed. Fulfill your destiny! Take Callista for your spouse and become the next sovereign of this kingdom! No one will dare to speak against you when you're ordered king!"

The gray-furred tom finally got out of bed and washed his face on the bowl that lay on the ground. The contact with the refreshing fluid cleared his thoughts and shed any doubt still existing in his mind. He cleaned his fur and dressed his winter clothes, above which he dressed his hauberk, on which Sir Astor had cast a spell that considerably reduced the weight of the steel chain mail without, however, affecting its solidity. That done, he dressed a black jacket and fastened it around his chest with X-shaped leather straps. Above it all, he donned his purple cloak, putting on his hood.

He went for a small chest in one corner of his quarters. He opened it and, from the bottom, retrieved a very ancient-looking book. He stared at the book in his hands. The tome's cover looked featureless and overall not worth the effort of looking at, but only so because of the spell Khronos had cast over it and which he now unwove. By pure chance he had discovered it, but it was his greatest finding ever! His eyes admired the true nature of that timeworn book. Its light-brown-leather cover had two darker stripes, one at the bottom and the other at the top. Between them there was a blue inclusion of tinted leather in the shape of an hourglass sown in the light brown leather. Nothing else ornamented the cover. He opened the book's first page, where, written in a dark brown faded lettering, the title could be seen: "Tome of Time". New courage coursing through his veins, Khronos closed it again, put it under his right arm and hid it with the cloak. After letting out a resigned sigh, he left his barrack.

Khronos made to the castle with unflagging steps. Yet while his legs pressed forward, his mind raced back to the stunning revelation Eolos had made the morning before.

"A mad jester, you say?" - Khronos had asked, suddenly interested.

"Indeed. It was the former jester to His Highness. It is, however, amazing how he could wield such a power."

"Was he powerful?"

"Quite! Not even Sir Astor could do anything when he pointed that emerald at us, immobilizing us all."

"An emerald, you say?" - Khronos had asked again, not even attempting to disguise his interest in the matter.

"Aye. It seemed as though the jester was drawing his power from it rather than from himself, like we do. A most glorious deed on your part, I might say, destroying that wicked stone!"

With the help of his findings in the Tome of Time, Khronos was able to draw his own conclusion. It meant what he had destroyed was a magic receptacle, that the jester had plied it and that, in order to do so, he must be able to wield magic to some extent. He obviously was an 'abeyant', a latent mage that could only work magic through a receptacle, neither a mundane kat nor a Mystical Knight.

In this fact lay the one shred of hope Khronos had only confided to his journal.

"Controlling the 'abeyant' should pose no problem. No problem at all..." - he mumbled under his breath just before the shadows of the castle walls swallowed him.

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His footsteps echoed slightly along the poorly illuminated, narrow, humid and moldy corridor, multiplying its sound many times until it seemed as though a horde of soldiers was marching down the hall. He stopped, wondering if his imagination was playing tricks on him. Looking back over his shoulder, Khronos saw nobody. A chill ran up his spine, like a foreboding warning. He pressed on further, resolved to go with his plan to the end, to whatever end...

He didn't have to walk much further. The corridor was finally coming to an end and he could see the glimmering orange flare of oil lamps up ahead. He'd at long last reached the lowest level of dungeons, where the ones who would rather be forgotten were located. At first, he heard nothing, the early reverberation of his footsteps still loud in his ears. Then, he discerned something else as he drew nearer.

A slow and lugubrious dirge chanted in a melodious voice.

Khronos stepped into the small square in which the corridor branched off in two directions. To his right was a row of iron-barred niches. To his left ran one of the branching corridors; the other ran straight ahead from the point where Khronos stood. The wizard looked inside the first cell, from where the lament was coming. A decadent form on the cell's cot was embracing its knees. The soft ring of the bells from his cap, together with the chanting and the setting made the scene altogether eerie.

Khronos remained there in silence, unable to neither act nor react. For his part, the jester also seemed unaware of the knight's presence as he continued his dirge. Then, suddenly, the jester stopped singing. The eerie ringing of his cap's bells still remained in the air a second later. Khronos blinked in surprise by the sudden silence.

The insane jester looked to the dark figure outlined by the dancing flare of the oil lamp behind and, for the first time, he looked scared and recoiled ever so slightly from the cloaked and hooded form that terribly resembled Death.

Then the jester's eyes flared bright green for a moment, recognizing the kat in front of him.

"Is this all?" - the jester asked to no one in particular - "Is this all the witch could conjure?" - he snorted, finally addressing the knight - "Or is your coming of your own making? Are you seeking revenge for what I did to you...?"

Khronos removed his hood - "The past doesn't concern me. What does concern me is the future... and the role you will have in it."

"Crazy!" - the jester spat.

"Crazed you may be and yet I have reserved a part for you in this tale. Do you want to know how the tale will end?"

"I so yearn for it! A tale without an end is like a story without its middle, which is exactly where one can find your kind! A sty, you understand? Story - sty... Hahaha..."

"Insolent. Be careful, jester: you're narrowing what little uses are still left to you at an astonishing rate. Nevertheless, I will tell you how this will end: before long, I will seize control of this realm by espousing the Queen but, to do that, I will have to remove something that constitutes a mutual obstacle, I believe. I speak of King deManx XIII. You will aid me in that task."

"You are crazy! Why would I help you?"

"I take it you have no great affinity for His Highness... You'd be removing a large boulder from your path. Once I'm ordained king, your life won't be forfeit any longer and you shall freely choose where and how to make your living. How does that sound to you?"

"Like you're pulling my end-less legend! Hahaha... And yet..." - the jester closed his eyes and pondered for a few instants before responding - "What must I do?"

A smile spread on Khronos' face. The jester was his.

"Only fulfill the vow that has made you turn traitor in the first place: kill deManx! And I will grant you enough power to deal with that annoyance." - The jester's eyes glowed brighter than before when he heard Khronos' words.

Khronos thought hard, looking for the right thing. He needed something small from the jester, something that he could carry with him at all times. Then he looked at the jester's head and a light shone in his eyes.

"But first... I'll take this!" - Khronos' snatched the cap from the fool's head.

"Hey! What are you doing?" - the jester bawled although his face presented a mix between shock and confusion - "It won't fit you! The colors don't match! I... You wouldn't like it! You don't know where this has been... NOT FUNNY! GIVE IT BACK!"

"Be silent! I must concentrate on the spell!" - Khronos ordered as he opened the Tome of Time on the page where the centuried spell for creating magical receptacles was written - "Ah, here it is."

"Wizards... You can never tell what they'll do next..." - the jester mumbled as he squinted to try to see what was being done.

Khronos placed the fool's cap on the floor and started chanting the spell in a voice that seemed guttural, grim and terrible to the jester's ears. The flames dancing at the tip of the oil lamps died out until they became the size of a small candle's flame. Khronos' words reverberated throughout the maze of passages as his footsteps had done a few minutes earlier, turning the chanting into a whirlwind of fell voices. Khronos seemed to have grown in stature and his figure had become both grand and terrible as a storm in the ocean. The ground and the walls moaned and shook ever so slightly.

The jester recoiled to the innermost wall of his prison and hunched there, in the darkest and furthest corner. Somehow, Khronos' clothes fluttered wildly as though he was surrounded by a terrible windstorm. However, the flames in the lamps refused to die out. The jester saw a barely noticeable vortex of dust and ash rise up to engulf the sorcerer and his cap. The spell neared its completion when an obfuscating flare surrounded the frame of the Mystical Knight.

A burst of green light shot away from the wizard's body and rushed to hit the fool's cap still lying on the floor. And so, the power transfer began. Khronos could feel his power being drawn from his body, leaving him weaker by the moment. Feeling enough of his power had been transferred down to the fool's cap, he tried to end the spell. He did not anticipate what happened next, though.

It seemed the spell had a will of its own, that it would not be commanded - or stopped - as easily as it was unleashed. Khronos struggled with control. Only after great efforts and torturing pain did he manage to interrupt the flow of power and thus end the potent and quite unwieldy spell. He fell to his knees, wheezing and panting. The vortex that surrounded him vanished, the flames flared up, the room became brighter and the ground and the walls stopped moaning.

The jester awkwardly got out from his hiding place and went to the bars. With the gray-furred knight lost in some kind of shock, he didn't miss his chance. He snatched his cap through the bars and swiftly reclaimed his prey.

"Not funny!" - he repeated in a growl directed at his visitor, groping his precious fool's crown affectionately whilst searching for any spell-caused blemishes. When he found none, he put it back to where it belonged - on his head.

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His senses were lost in inebriated sleep; they came back gradually, and most reluctantly. Taste was first of all to return, and it announced itself in the form of a thick, sour aroma coating his tongue and palate. Together with the sharp smell that suddenly flooded his nostrils - a concoction of ale, wine and mead, overlaid with cold sweat - it made him feel slightly sick. His reviving vision didn't do anything to stabilize his condition. On the contrary. Blurred and lagged, it rather enhanced the ill feeling. His ears resumed their work: some loud intelligible noise near to him was mixing with his own sluggish breathing. It was then that the pain set in, the combined input of all his senses cleaving his head in two as deftly as an axe. Telluros groaned despite himself.

The oldest of the five Mystical Knights and chosen successor of Sir Astor forced his eyes fully open and waited for his head to clear. Slowly he realized that the condition of his mind was only partly responsible for his foggy vision. There was more smoke hanging in the room than clouds in the sky on an overcast day. What little he could make out in the room was distorted by its gray wafts. There were numerous wooden chairs, benches and tables and at the center of the wall to his left stood a huge bar made of black oak, many scars and some minor burnt spots showing its age. The whole floor seemed to be one giant pond of ale.

Finally it came back to Telluros where he was: in the Hard Hart inn. And with him there should be...

He turned his head. As expected, he found the sleeping form of Sir Hydor next to him. His head on the table, his mouth wide open, the burly knight snored loud enough to wake the dead, unaware of the puddle of spit that had formed under his chin. Telluros shook him gently.

"Bugger off and leave me alone, wench!" - came the mumbled reply.

Telluros abandoned gentleness. He gave his friend a push hard enough to send him off the table. As Hydor had sat against the wall to have a better view of the room, his head merely slipped down onto the bench, but the soft thud that followed was enough to get his attention. Not to mention his curses...

"Filthy son of..."

Telluros let the litany wash over him - "If you're finished with your greetings, see if you're well enough to get up and going, Hydor!"

"'Well enough'... Ha! As if you were a sturdy drinking companion! You'll never drink anyone under the table if you keep to that watered wine, Telluros! A Mystical Knight should be able to cope with stronger brews. The time you take up an ale-drinking contest with me and remain the last kat standing I'll kiss your hairy rear!" - and he straightened himself up with such an enviable velocity and ease that the stunned Telluros missed any chance for a suitable reply.

Hydor even dared to stand up, a task he performed as flawlessly as his constant grumbling. Now it was his turn to gaze at the room.

"Seems we beat all the others, though, huh?" - he commented the lack of any other customers.

Telluros had realized that, too, and the only explanation made him slightly anxious. The Hard Hart was the 'noblest' tavern in Megalith City. That is, its clientele was different from the other taverns. The latter were found in the outer bailey, and other than a rich selection of drinks they offered the weary traveler a place to stay. Those taverns drew commoners and foreign visitors alike. They entertained them, feed them and even took in those with fat enough purses. In short, they were open all day and all through the night.

The Hard Hart in comparison didn't accommodate travelers. There were no rentable upper floor rooms in the Hard Hart for a nightly stay. It was the guards' inn, the bourgeois's inn. Sometimes even a minor noble could be found among the regulars, for they too felt the occasional need for drink and gambling and were dire to feed it as long as they didn't have to leave the inner bailey to do so. Early in the morning, the innkeeper would close the place till evening and throw out the last, keg-bottom seeking customers - no matter their heritage. But that didn't hold true for the Mystical Knights... They were too respected - and Telluros guessed too feared - to be forced out.

So the innkeeper had not stirred them from their slumber but let them stay were they were, not daring to evoke their wrath.

"Pitiably weaklings!"

"Judging Hydor's grouchy behavior, who could blame him?" - Telluros thought.

It was not the thought of being left here alone that filled him with dread, though. It was the dim morning light that infiltrated the room through the dirty, greasy windows that did so. It was morning already!

"We'll be late!" - he groaned.

"So?" - answered Hydor rhetorically.

"So? So when Sir Astor rips my head off, at least it will lessen the pain." - Telluros replied cynically.

Hydor's chuckle barely covered his murmured "wimp". Louder he added - "What's done is done, so stop whining! Celebrating Khronos' reawakening was your idea!"

Telluros was too wise to reply. They both knew that it had not been his idea. But Hydor could be very persuasive sometimes, and after their respectful tavern abstinence while Khronos lay dying he hadn't needed much urging to convince Telluros to tag along. No, he wasn't free of guilt here. Telluros sighed mutely. Trusting that his headache wasn't even near its peak yet, he was already being punished for the lack of resolution he'd shown yesterday.

Nevertheless there was no denying that the last night had been highly enjoyable. A month of self-restraint spiced up the experience of the tavern. The smells had been sweeter than usual, the flavors much stronger, and Telluros had actually heard one or two new jokes over the hours, which was a first one. Moreover, people hadn't slackened buying them drinks, either to hear of the feast invasion first-hand, or to congratulate them on their grand victory. Sensing liquid profits, Hydor had been more than willing to share their tale with the public. Telluros's hangover was proof enough of that...

There had been other exciting news as well. Especially one well-told tale came back to Telluros's dazed mind, one that directly related to the events during the feast ...

"Hydor, do you remember that jester from last night?"

"What, are you mad? Lousy skills, no sense of humor, unashamedly hubristic... Of course I remember him! The folks he had under the table with his enactments must've drifted off into grateful unconsciousness!"

"Actually, the crowd hung at his lips..." - Telluros corrected him.

"Hah! If the mad old jester was even lousier, it's no wonder he was replaced!"

"'MadKat and his revenge.' The tale will become a legend, I tell you! MadKat..." - Telluros mused - "A fitting name."

Hydor snorted contemptuously - "MadKat won't harm anybody anymore, unless he learns how to dry-fart people to death over the distance of a mile! We should break this pathetic story to Khronos before someone else does! He will have a good laugh."

"Lead on then, Hydor, or one whole day of chores isn't the end of our punishment!"

It happened in the same moment he made to rise: He received an invisible blow to his gut, yet it felt as solid as if someone had punched him for real. Telluros gasped and doubled over, losing his balance and falling butt-first onto the filthy wet floor.

"Can't even stand two sips of mulled wine..." - Hydor complained, misjudging his friend's fall - "I should get me some real drinking companion, like Pyros!"

Telluros let Hydor's remark pass. Shock and fear dissolved any effects the long night of drinking had left on him. He jumped to his feet. He had felt that gut-blowing feeling before. Nearly one month ago... At the evening of the feast!

"HYDOR, QUICK! OUR KING AND QUEEN ARE IN MORTAL PERIL!"

He drew on his powers. Around where the locked door stood, the tavern's loamy soil sagged in a circle of three meters. With nothing to support its weight, the whole construction was pulled down by the door's pillars. When the door fell outward, Telluros was already jumping over it and vanishing into the rain outside.

Having not felt the magical force that had warned Telluros, Hydor stood still for a moment, trying to digest his friend's words. Then he ran after him, a tetchy sigh coming from his lips.

"A knight's duty shouldn't have to begin before noon!"

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The feeling was not altogether pleasant. It felt as if the cap was melting into his flesh and the skull beneath. His costume, too, seemed to take on life. It expanded all over his body and became his second skin. Although the jester couldn't see his face, he knew that it was now colored in red and beige patches. Not so much as a curl of his auburn fur could be seen any longer.

He didn't feel the pain. He laughed. Only now did he know what real power was. The witch queen's amulet had been a child's toy!

He leaned against the cell bars and, while he was looking down at the fallen knight before his feet, felt his body compress as if it was made of butter. Soon it fit the gap between two bars and he simply slid through. He liked the feeling. Outside the cell, he turned on the spot and squeezed his head through the bars again, stretching his neck as far as he could. It lengthened further and further. His head struck the wall in the furthest corner of the cell and with a laugh he withdrew again. No cell would hold him in the future!

"I didn't exaggerate about the power I'd grant you, did I, jester?" - said Khronos. He stood up elegantly, but a wheeze was still in his voice.

"The name is MadKat, knight, but you can call me..." - he paused - "No! There is no second choice for you! MadKat you shall call me ere your end!"

His obedience and terror of before had only been show. It didn't do to send someone away from the cell if he promised power and freedom, but now that he had obtained what he wanted, revenge was all that was on MadKat's mind. King, queen, knight and jester - they would all die before the day was out! And the knight was already at his mercy before him!

"You aged me, you caged me, nothing now shall save thee! Ahahaha!"

He felt his newly gained powers flow into his fingertip, but then MadKat stopped himself.

It would be too easy.

The knight had destroyed his plans, had imprisoned him! He wanted to make him suffer like he had suffered! He wanted to make it last! Khronos should delude himself with the false hope that his plan was working. He would kill deManx; it was what he had wanted to do in the first place. But directly thereafter he would kill the queen! The she-kat the knight had just confessed he loved madly. And only then - when the lines of shock and loss had etched their way into Khronos' face - would he kill him. It was a fitting end for his foe, MadKat decided, and another laugh wormed its way up from his yellow-crimson chest and erupted.

"Ah, don't you worry, my mischievous magician, you shall have your wish first. The king falsely abandoned and imprisoned me. And a king can't afford to have faults! Why, we should help to cut these defects out of his character! Literally... Ahahaha!"

His eyes gleamed again. In his new all-costume form this bright green looked - if possible - even eerier than it had ever before!

"MadKat will stage his verdict and make him feel guilty ere his end... The play's the thing wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king!"

He winked at Khronos and vanished in a puff of yellow smoke.

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Khronos regained his breath. The gray-furred tom stared into the empty space where MadKat had been only a second before, not fully grasping what had gone wrong with his spell. He'd done everything as it was supposed to be done. Why hadn't he been able to control it?

His dark spell had drained him of more magic than he'd calculated, leaving him weaker in the magics than perhaps even Hydor, the weakest Mystical Knight in their midst. Khronos greatly felt the loss, like someone had cut a large piece of flesh from his ribs. Already he was scheming on how to get his powers back. He decided he would make another receptacle to reclaim his lost powers. All it needed was studying the Tome of Time further, and nothing would go wrong on his second try!

Anyway, what was done was done, and it had been worth it! MadKat's powers were beyond anything Megalith City had ever seen. The ability to vanish in a sulfurous cloud even stunned the Mystical Knight. DeManx would stand no chance!

Once the king was dead, he would get rid of MadKat, too. He'd always intended to put away with the mad nuisance afterwards. His dark plots needed no confidant, and the profession of a jester brought a loose tongue with it. MadKat's threat to kill him, too, came unexpected, but Khronos shrugged it off. Even with half his powers gone, he would easily crush MadKat in the dust drawing upon the collected wisdom of the Tome of Time. And his killing the kat who murdered the king would be the final thing to drive his wife, Queen Callista, into his arms. Khronos smiled as he ran up the stairs to the castle. Things were working well!

All that was left for him to do now was to verify the efficiency of his assassin tool.

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A broad theater stage appeared out of nowhere in King deManx's throne room, complete with a stool and a table on its floorboards. Two curtains fluttering wildly between three pillars formed its rear wall. If everything except for a few red stripes had the color of a sickly yellow, it was because the whole thing was de facto MadKat's body, shaped to fit his vengeful desires. His head stuck out grizzly from the tabletop, mouth wide open in a leer. The liberties that companied his new powers came to him so naturally he had already forgotten how it was to have only one, nonflexible, form.

"I'm here to stage your trial, deManx!" - he announced, only to end with a frustrated roar. The glorious revenge plan he had formed in his head had turned out to have one significant flaw.

The throne room was empty!

What in times of King deManx's presence was a heavily guarded room teeming with servants and glorying in politicking now only served to dissipate his echoing cry. The golden ornamented monstrosity that served as the king's throne stood cold and empty on the marble dais.

Too bad! He would've liked to take on the guards in the room one at a piece, making them look the fools and give deManx a real fright before he took on the king.

MadKat prepared for jumping to another scenery, but his indecision whether to pick the king's private rooms or the royal gardens was what massively changed the following events, yes indeed the fate of an entire kingdom. For in his pause he heard it: the unmistakable sound little bells made when shaken.

"Who's playing hide and seek with me? Show yourself! I know you are here somewhere!"

The stage shaped back into the form of a costumed clown. MadKat walked around the huge block of marble on his silent new yellow soles. Behind the dais he found the cowering jester, the one that had visited him in his cell, the one that had taken his place. The one he had named...

"NEWT! What a pleasant shock to meet such an unpleasant shoat!"

Seeing another kat from his death list, another charlatan to be tried and found guilty, his crazed mind abandoned all well-laid plans. No more playing hide-and-seek! MadKat put King deManx down at the bottom of his revenge queue for the moment. Grabbing his successor by the scruff of his neck he pulled him up.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Newt: You made a big mistake to sleight me!

Too bad you won't live long enough to spread the wisdom!"

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Khronos didn't know where MadKat had vanished to but he scarcely wanted to miss the king's execution, now did he? Surely not!

He ran up the stairs that led to the castle in record time. He had to be fast, had to be on time.

"I won't be late!" - he told himself - "Time has ever been my ally!"

Only he didn't know where to run to. Reaching the castle's ground floor, he had to decide quickly. The throne room was as good a place to start looking for deManx as any other, so he continued in that direction, rightly assuming that MadKat had thought along the same lines.

Another record time and the corridor leading to the throne room reached its end. The absence of guards before the heavy double oak doors made Khronos' soaring spirits plummet. The king wouldn't be inside.

So when he opened one door nevertheless, it was just to confirm his fears and to move on with the assurance of having checked. It came as a total surprise to him when he saw MadKat inside. Khronos sneaked into the room and closed the door behind him silently, just in time to see a costumed kat being flung across the polished dark floor, leaving a long line along the way. Half a dozen similar lines on the floor and twice as many rips on MadKat's victim's costume showed that it wasn't the first time the unfortunate jester had wiped the ground with his body. It seemed that MadKat was enjoying himself quite a bit.

The jester MadKat faced certainly regretted having woken up today! The enmity MadKat emitted was tangible and, to Khronos, palatable as well. He smiled from the shadowy corner he'd hidden himself in.

At least he'd see a little demonstration of his magical crony's work.

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MadKat let his adversary recover for a moment. The sport was juicier if his victim deluded himself with the possibility of escape or a truce. But, moreover, he had stopped because he had felt another presence enter the room, a well-known presence... The Knight...

"How... you... get out...?" - spluttered the shaking form of Newt before him, failing abysmally at putting a befriending smile upon his face.

"'How'... 'Get out?'" - echoed MadKat in a high-pitched voice - "Is that all you have to say. 'How'? Where be your gibes now, your gambols, your songs, your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now to mock your own grinning? Quite chop-fallen?"

Newt's only answer was a stutter. Then, with swiftness one could not expect from a trembling body, he darted away, aiming for the leftward side entrance. He might have outrun any other person, but MadKat simply laughed and vanished into thin air with a pop.

He reappeared in the doorway Newt was making to, his right arm shaped like a large peahen feather, nib faced outwards.

Newt's momentum carried him right into MadKat's arms. He screamed hoarsely as he felt the sharp thin end run through him.

MadKat roared with crazed laughter - "Impaled on your own sword, fool! Ahaha! The pen is indeed mightier than the sword!" - he withdrew his transformed hand, holding it up high before the jester's face - "Red ink. Hahha..."

He remodeled his limb to its normal form. His lower arm was striped with blood, but his fingers and palm were all covered in it. What a glorious dark red color! Sweet revenge - how he loved it!

Newt seemed to have lost all wish for movement. He stood still and pale, needing all his strength not to sag on the spot.

Still laughing, MadKat used his hand to smear Newt's blood all over his poor victim's own face - "Now get you to my lady's chamber and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come. Make her laugh at that."

Newt was unable to answer, but MadKat was enjoying the show even so. He watched the unpainted parts of Newt's face become chalky. At long last Newt succumbed to gravity, falling limply to the floor.

"Not up to the job, eh?" - MadKat chuckled - "I guess I'll have to do it on my own, then! Don't run away, Newt, I'll be back!"

He turned around and looked the hidden Khronos directly in the eye - "Queen Callista, it is time I expressed my deepest admiration to you!"

Another evil grin, another loud crack, and he was gone.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" - Khronos' anguished scream cut through the sound and lasted long after he, too, had rushed from the room.

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Queen Callista was alone in her chambers. At last. Chambermaids could be stubborn like mules when their working domain was concerned. The queen's rooms looked tidy, clean and fantastic in every aspect, but it had been an impossible undertaking for Callista, even with her outstanding diplomatic talents, to get that particular point through to them and see them leaving.

"If her husband is rallying in the glory and nobleness of a boar hunt, a young queen should be at his side, attending him." - the boldest had even dared to voice, just to get her out of the room - "Or use the given time to invite the noble ladies of the court to a private feast in the great banquet hall."

They didn't understand that at the moment nothing mattered so much to their queen than being left alone in her own chambers. No, it wasn't loneliness that she sought, as again the daring chambermaid had argued, but rather the remoteness and familiarity of the place. Only in her locked private chamber could she study her magics further without chancing any unexpected disclosure.

Of course, this wasn't an enterprise the Queen could have disclosed to her chambermaids (and certainly they would have considered something as trivial as studying magics or the safety of Megalith City a feeble excuse for refraining them from their cleaning duty anyhow). So in the end it hadn't been Callista's speech that had driven them away, but rather her near faint a few minutes ago. The chambermaids had left, suggesting their Queen should have a lie down, and that she should generally not overexert herself during her "blood days".

Blood days... Callista had almost laughed, had it not spoiled the ready-made excuse to see them leaving. No, it must have been the heat of the argument that had made the Queen's knees weak and driven the color from her face, for by now she was feeling absolutely fine again, except for a slight prickling sensation that hadn't quite faded yet. But that was nothing to stop her from doing what she was intending to do ever since her training session with Sir Astor.

When the elder had given her back the amulet the day before, she had realized how much Sir Astor risked and sacrificed for her. Creating a receptacle could suck the magic out of its creator... And yet he had not only risked the spell once but twice, each time transferring a small amount of his powers into the amulet vessel. He parted with his skills so that his queen could blossom to the full.

Sir Astor's self-sacrifice made her choke. He trusted in her powers and her wisdom more than she did herself. She would not disappoint him! And she would not be idle but use every single minute she could spare to exercise, secure and deepen his teachings and whatever she could learn through books on the side.

Of course she couldn't do that under the Arch Mage's very nose, so she had to wait for any opportunity when he was distant enough not to sense her practicing. And this morning such an opportunity had presented itself to her. Her husband's decision to organize a hunt had been a spontaneous one. A high noble from the Westlands, one of the King's cousins, had turned up at the gates with his party late last evening and he was known for loving a good hunting even more than her husband was. King deManx had only be too glad to show him his favorite hunting grounds. Always concerned with his liege's welfare, Sir Astor had accompanied their small under-protected group, as had the Sirs Eolos and Pyros.

This evening, when their agreed meeting would take place and Sir Astor would educate her in the magics for the first time in a month, she would surprise him with her skills!

Queen Callista walked to her large wall mirror, a shining three-feet ellipse in a silver casing emblazoned with the deManx family crest. To anyone who would've glimpsed a moment, her image would've been breathtaking. Yet Callista merely watched the amulet, a jade butterfly on the pink field that was her finely-cut dress. Then she closed her eyes. She would not use the amulet's powers, she had promised Sir Astor that, but there were enough spells that didn't need the extra power to be cast, spells not even Sir Telluros or Sir Khronos would detect when she used them. She decided she would start with something simple - masking her mirror image.

She was clearing her mind for the spell when some magical disturbance broke her concentration. With a loud noise, a kat materialized in her room behind her, his costumed reflection in the mirror making her jump. Queen Callista caught herself soon enough, though. A queen never jumped!

Outwardly not showing a trace of the shock she was feeling inside, she calmly turned around.

"Queen Callista. The queen who lets her subjects rot!" - her invader bowed mockingly lowly - "MadKat's time of revenge has come! Are there any last scornful words you'd like to bestow on me?"

Her heart hammered in her ears and the prickling sensation she felt had become a coat of life ants biting away at her skin. Only hours before, Sir Astor had warned her that those open to the magics might sense a receptacle whilst in use. Now she knew why. The cap upon the fool's head was a receptacle and its wearer was using it without relent. The power emanating from it was so mighty that Callista feared its sheer resonance would sweep her away any second. The amulet around her neck couldn't save her; that she knew with the certainty of the doomed. Before she'd be able to as much as draw upon its powers, the escaped jester would've stomped her out like a moth.

Her only hope lay in stalling. If she could stay alive long enough, maybe there was a chance of escape or of coming aid. A slim hope, but better to build on a slim hope than to shovel a wide grave!

"MadKat, you say? I thought that was the name sung in the taverns to mock you. You're a fool to adapt it!"

"But I am a fool! Ahahha... But again you err in your judgment, my ghastly queen. It's a great name! One I want to live up to. You see..." - he smiled maniacally - "...madness just brings out the best in us!"

"Where is my husband?"

It was not a question she had wanted to ask. It made her vulnerable - always bad in negotiations. But she was at a loss for words, and the unknown fate of her beloved was an ever-growing lump in her throat.

"What have you done to him, MadKat?"

"Nothing. Yet! Hahaha!" - MadKat laughed over his own bad joke - "I suspected him in the gardens, with you at his side. I wish it had been so, for I'm dying to meet him as well!"

His face became hard in an instant - "Tell me where he is!"

Nobody was coming. Her chances were dwindling away...

"I just asked you where my husband is. Even a fool should know then that I do not know of his whereabouts!"

"Wicked witch!" - he snarled. Now he was really enraged; Callista could see spit flying from the side of his mouth - "A queen does not lie to her subjects!"

Desperate, Callista tried to use his rage against him. She reached out for the power stored in the amulet...

MadKat's right arm stretched and grew. Before the queen knew it, a gigantic fist stretched out to meet her and she was slammed into the mirror. Her head met its surface. She heard the sound of breaking glass. Pain crept into her skull. Lights faded...

"Don't try your weak tricks on me!"

MadKat's voice became more distant somehow.

"And your husband... Your silence doesn't matter. I will find him! Soon you will meet him again. In death!"

Callista knew she was slipping out of consciousness. She slipped into darkness with a last illusion imprinted on her mind: that of her door being slammed open.

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"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER, YOU WHORESON?"

"Sir Khronos..." - MadKat cackled, his face drawn in a caricature of puzzlement - "Now why does this seem familiar?"

It should've been clear to the knight what he meant. Khronos storming in on MadKat with the queen out cold in the corner of the room was an eerie reenactment of their first meeting in the Tower on the evening of the feast. But of course Khronos didn't remember that and the quip missed its mark. Instead, Khronos thought MadKat was referring to their former meeting in the dungeon. The flippant remark about his deliberate 'betrayal' made his blood boil.

His secret love lay on the ground as if...

"You will pay dearly for this, MadKat! Time is mine to master // Through ages it flies // You will wither and alter // Until your existence it nullifies!"

The aging spell didn't come to him as easily as it used to. The fast run from the dungeon to the queen's chambers via the throne room had exhausted him, and apparently it was harder to conjure with only one half of his former powers. As a result the purple ray that flew from his fingers was thinner than usual. MadKat had no problems teleporting himself out of harm's way.

Now it was his chance to charge. His head formed into a hammer that smote the knight frontally. The cloaked kat slammed against the wall and the Tome of Time flew out from under his purple garment. Dazed but otherwise unhurt, Khronos landed on his stomach next to it.

"Good night my knight! Ahahah!"

The remark was a mistake and it cost MadKat the opportunity to finish Khronos off. For during the pause the knight recovered enough to clear his eyes. The Tome of Time lay at his side. The sight gave him strength.

He combed through his memories for a spell that would aid him against such a potent foe. Finally he came up with one: the Sphere of Contraction. He remembered the day he had read about it in the Tome for the first time: a month and twelve days before the autumn equinox. Khronos could remember every spell by that criterion; dates and times came to him naturally.

He pressed his hand onto the cover of the tome, the precise date and the precise situation firm in his mind. A wind seemed to hit the book from the side as soon as he withdrew his hand. The book opened and the pages were lifted by an invisible tide. When the effect ebbed away a second later, Khronos stared at the opened page. It was the one he had sought. With a quick chanting he cast the spell written on it.

For a moment the room was filled with fog so thick one couldn't see the hand before one's eyes. The fog soon started to swirl, though, and it was drawn towards MadKat as if by a magnet. It formed a semi-transparent sphere around the fool, ten feet in diameter and tightening further.

MadKat used his smoke cloud trick to disappear again, reappearing on the other side of the room. To his horror he realized that the sphere had transported with him! He jumped a second time and again the sphere followed. Something fairly close to panic now showed on his face.

"What is this new devilry?" - he shouted, his voice rising involuntarily at the last syllable. His new prison had contracted again. Now he could barely stand upright inside the foggy sphere.

Khronos didn't answer. He couldn't answer! The spell had to be maintained and it cost him all his strength to do so. He could feel MadKat's struggling. It ripped at his weave with his every heartbeat. If MadKat pounded against it long enough, Khronos knew his strength would falter and then the mad jester would break free. There was no way he would be able to squeeze MadKat to the size of a horse's head inside, which was what he had intended prior to his chanting. Well rested, he might've been able to press him into a bloody pulp but under these circumstances...

He had to bluff!

Summoning his last reserves, he tightened the sphere's radius again - "Greet the Kats Beneath for me, MadKat!"

MadKat was forced into a crouching position, now clearly terror-stricken. He used his teleportation spell again and again, vainly trying to get rid of the foggy trap. But however often he was materializing in every single corner of the queen's quarters, he couldn't shake off the spell; it was just teleported with him every time did. The Sphere of Contraction was cast upon a person, not upon a place.

In his fright MadKat did exactly what Khronos had hoped for: he fled. Cursing the knight mutely, he vanished in a yellow cloud. The imprisoning sphere vanished with him.

Through the magic link Khronos could feel MadKat rematerialize miles away from the castle, in an uninhabited hurst far to the north. Then the link broke. The spell, in addition to having to be maintained over a longer period, was the more difficult the more distance lay between the wielder and his target.

His shoulders sagged. Khronos leaned panting against the wall.

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MadKat's shoulders sagged. He leaned panting against a withered tree stump. If the knight knew how much strength it had cost him to stop the sphere from squeezing the brains out of him, he would never have let him escape, he was sure of that.

It made him hate Khronos even stronger. He would return and pay him back for the humiliation he had given him before the unconscious queen!

The queen...

Yes, maybe he would unveil the knight's little secret, too! That would be fun...

Against his own will, MadKat's chin fell to his chest.

But first, he needed a break...

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"Sacred Kats!"

The wounded jester lay in a large puddle of his own blood. Telluros knelt down beside the tom and lifted his head onto his lap. A quick scan told him the poor soul was beyond hope. He had the skin of a ghost and his eyes were already dimming.

In a last effort, the dying kat grabbed Telluros's hand and pulled him down with a death-grip.

"MadKat..." - he whispered into the Mystical Knight's ear, the last breath that should ever leave his body. He was dead.

"May the Sacred Kats have mercy on your soul!"

There would be a time for proper mourning, but it wasn't now, Telluros knew. They could afford no delay! Unaware that their king was hunting outside the city grounds, Telluros raked his brains for every place in the city King deManx might be at such a time.

"MadKat is back! Quick, Hydor, we must find and protect the royal couple! You search first the gardens and then the private chapel and the royal wine cellar. I'll take their private quarters, the halls and the royal stable. Pray we're not too late! MOVE!"

Telluros stood up. Blood had soaked up into his gown, dyeing everything from his knees downwards a rusty red.

"Let's hope no more blood will stain our soil today" - were his words before he started running.

"Of course I have been given the longest route!" - was Hydor's remark upon his departure.

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Tears were falling freely down his gray facial fur, only to be greedily sucked in by the purple cloth of his hood. His plan had failed. It had destroyed the one true gem in his life. Khronos couldn't bear the pain. It brought him to his knees after but two steps and he so crept onwards to his beloved queen, to hold her in his arms for the first and tragically last time.

The queen lay lifelessly in a shower of glass below her mirror. Dark blood had matted her waist-long hair. How virtuous she looked, how innocent, how mighty and yet how frail... How could blood dare blemish an angel! If only he could bring back the past to save her...

Trembling hands traced a jawbone, caressed a rouged cheek and pulled splinters of glass from her golden strands. She felt so warm...

Suddenly she stirred.

"Callista! You live!"

Formalities were forgotten as joy as he had never known surged through his body. Khronos brushed her lips with his, longing for the moment to last. For once, time was a thief, though, as it was gone too soon.

Khronos forced his body to rise, never taking his eyes off of his secret love. Queen Callista was slowly returning to consciousness, but sleep had a claim over her yet. All would be gone when she awoke...

In that moment Khronos knew that he would do anything to possess her for eternity. The future he dreamed of could still come to pass! If MadKat revealed his dark secret, however, this future was nil. Khronos' decision was made!

"My queen, I promise I won't return to you until MadKat has been made pay in the only currency he understands: in blood."

His body yearned for rest as much as his mind craved her embrace, but the task of MadKat's removal didn't tolerate any deferral. Pleasant sleep he would find after the deed was done, not before! Fighting off his urge to touch her again, Khronos turned, picked up the Tome of Time and left the queen's chambers without looking back.

When Telluros reached the room five minutes later under the eyes of a stirring queen, a riding Khronos was just passing under the city gates and vanishing into the uncertainty ahead.

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Of one thing Khronos was sure as he galloped away from Megalith Castle: the jester was making use of his cap. The Mystical Knight was magnetically drawn to the insane jester. Just like Queen Callista sensed the reverberations of magic radiating from MadKat's cap, so did Khronos feel the same emanations, although at a higher level due to the dwindling distance separating both toms. He spurred the flanks of his steed and rode harder despite the continuous curtain of rain. The air around him was cold and mist blew out from his mouth, as well as from his mount's nostrils.

Inhospitable as it was, the rainy, bitter weather had one effect on him for which Khronos was thoroughly thankful: it was reviving his senses and restoring the strength that the spell of MadKat's creation and the Sphere of Contraction had sapped him of. It had seemed impossible to Khronos before, but now he felt that when he'd meet the mad jester, he would be able to rely on his full magical powers once more. And for this miserable traitor, no less than the full blast of his wrath seemed satisfactory...

Soon enough, Khronos reached the foggy margins of the fast-paced river that ran from west to east and, together with the cliff it'd been carving for centuries, formed the northern boundary of Megalith City's domains. Galloping over the stone bridge the city's craftsmen had erected, he quickly left the liquid line behind and penetrated a narrow region populated by dry bushes and thorny plants, the beginning of the forest that lay behind. Kingswood was how this dense plot of arboreal vegetation was known. It was a long strip of densely grown pines but not very wide - only about five miles at its widest point.

When Khronos entered Kingswood, the rain stopped bothering him so much. Instead, something more troublesome than water interposed in his way. It was said a rider couldn't gallop through a dense forest like Kingswood. However, either by magical arts or simply by great skill, the trees presented little hindrance to his march. He zigzagged through the forest for a long time, always climbing up the hill it covered. Then, the trees became more disperse and, finally, the Mystical Knight broke out from the tangle of trees into a dipping clearing of bare gray rock, which bore a flat top that stood above the tree line.

"Tor Drabtop..." - Khronos whispered as he looked from one side to the other - "He's near..."

Spurring the sides of his mount, Khronos proceeded to the top of the clearing at a slow pace. Soon, he reached the flat summit of Tor Drabtop and looked around, over the dull green downhill. It was a desolate sight in such weather. The curtains of light rain drowned almost all the scenic beauty of that region and nothing but a gray veil could be seen. Only the closest trees were visible.

"It's a dreadful scenario for a battle... - "Khronos thought as he dismounted - "The misty surroundings play favorably to a surprise attack."

Khronos' steed neighed and kicked out suddenly. The gray-furred warrior patted the restless horse's neck as he soothed him with words. - "Easy, Trouncer. Easy. You can feel him too, can't you? Relax. You're safe here, with me."

Khronos took off his hood and looked around, inspecting his surroundings. He tensed his muscles in anticipation. Nothing suspicious was on his eye or hearing range, though. However, beyond his common senses, Khronos could feel the emanations coming from the receptacle he created. They were pulsing fiercely now. There was no mistaking: MadKat was there! Unexpectedly, as if on cue, Khronos heard the eerie ring of small bells... Like the ones sown into a jester's cap.

The Mystical Knight drew steel, a sharp quick metallic sound echoing against the ring of trees and losing itself in the hum-drumming rain. Large droplets of sweat mixed with rainwater rolled down Khronos' face, dripping from his nose and jowl. He looked around anxiously, his sword pointing heavenwards in front of him, all his senses heightened. Then he heard it again. He spun around, only to face the gray emptiness. He bared his teeth.

"WHERE ARE THOU?" - he bellowed in a strong, threatening voice - "SHOW THYSELF!"

For what seemed like eternity there was no reply to his challenge. Then, in a soft scornful tone, no louder than the softest breeze, Khronos heard a word.

"Fear..."

"What...?"

"Fear..." - came the voice again, more harsh and defiant this time. Khronos turned around sharply, trying to locate his foe but before he could shout another challenge, the voice became a cackle.

"Fear me!" - it spat. The next moment a red and beige tentacle that appeared to have been embedded under the rock became alive, releasing itself from the stone as a destructive coil that pulverized everything in its path, coming directly towards Khronos. The gray-furred warrior barely had any time to jump away from the waving tentacle before it blasted the rock where he'd stood only moments ago.

Khronos rolled on the wet ground and watched as the tentacle freed itself, leaving an irregular furrow on the solid stone. To his dismay, he saw the red and beige projection turn around and come rushing to the spot where he was lying. He made a quick roll to the left and thus avoided the strange tentacle that javelined the hilltop in his stead.

The Mystical Knight quickly regained his footing and his composure. He watched as the tentacle recoiled completely before acquiring the shape of an arm. Then, stepping from behind a large pine tree, MadKat revealed himself wearing a wide maniacal grin on his face.

"Quite impressive!" - MadKat cooed - "For a knight you jump very well. You should have considered becoming a clown instead, he, he!"

"We had a deal!" - Khronos shouted - "You could have been wealthy and free when all came to an end. Why did you betray me?" - he asked, barely containing his fury. A chill, however, ran up his spine when he heard MadKat's shrill laugh.

"Oh, please! It takes more than a fool to fool a fool! I am your fool, your tool, and your stool to inherit the kingly rule! Why, you'll spin your dreams of greatness on my back! And afterwards...? I am a spool of threat to you!" - he had to interrupt his speech, for a cackle wound itself up from his chest - "I may be a fool but I am not stupid, my dear Sir Mule! Once I had fulfilled my play, you'd have ushered me off the stage straight away! After all, he who knows the truth can hardly live to tell the truth, right?" - he concluded.

"Then you have willingly chosen obliteration..." - Khronos coldly stated as he pointed his sword towards MadKat.

"Oh... I'm so scared!" - MadKat retorted mockingly. His lips broke apart in a maniacal sneer - "But I daresay I can snake my way out of this..." - he said in a gleeful tone as a green surge of bright green light flared up his eyes. Withdrawing his arms completely into his torso, he then flung forward several tentacle-like projections towards the Mystical Knight.

Khronos had only time to jump aside in order to avoid the first tentacle, which splintered everything where he'd stood into a thousand shards. His composure regained, he swung his blade in a wide arc that met the following two incoming projections. Red and beige pieces fell lifelessly on the outcrop. Hurriedly, Khronos flipped backward and rolled on the ground, thus evading the five following flexible javelins that, in his lieu, only punctured and speared the gray rock of Tor Drabtop.

The Knight quickly came to his feet and ran along the rim of the clearing as fast as he could, avoiding the seven subsequent blows. When he passed in front of his horse, the two tentacles that missed him embraced the animal around the mid-zone and lifted it up, squeezing the steed's abdomen so much they cleft the animal in two. A sharp neigh of agony echoed before the animal met his demise in a burst of red.

"TROUNCER!" - Khronos bellowed before he whispered - "My faithful Trouncer..." - His eyes acquired a steely gleam as Khronos now ran towards MadKat, zigzagging and evading the other onslaughts that missed him by the skin of his teeth. When he was at a wolf's leap from MadKat he jumped into the air. With that he avoided two snake-like projections that dug deep into the rock, creating a small cloud of dust and stone shards as Khronos leapt over them. The Mystical Knight swung his sword into position only a breath's time span before he hurled it against the jester's chest with a desperate shout.

The sword dashed through the humid air as it sang a metallic song of death. MadKat saw as the tip of the projectile hurtled towards him. He sent out even more snaking tentacles towards both Khronos and the incoming steel. As though it was guided, the sword miraculously passed through the barrage and MadKat watched as it spiked his chest, buried itself to the hilt in him and punctured him from side to side.

A smile appeared on Khronos' lips. However, it was promptly replaced by a grimace of pain as finally one projection managed to hit him in his shoulder, stabbing and throwing him back to the ground. The tentacle recoiled and left a bleeding wound behind. Khronos covered his injured shoulder with his hand and raised his torso to get a glimpse at MadKat.

The jester was still standing with Khronos' sword perforating his chest and protruding from the middle of his back. The smile returned to Khronos' face and he stumbled up to his feet. He walked to MadKat.

"A sting can still kill a scorpion." - Khronos said. MadKat had his head down towards his chest. The Knight couldn't get a good vision of the jester's face. It was only when MadKat heaved up his head a little that Khronos saw the wide grin on MadKat's face. The warrior froze.

"Apparently you don't know my sign." - the jester said - "I'm a Ram!"

Without warning, MadKat's upper torso transformed into a battering ram that smote Khronos frontally. The impact lifted the Mystical Knight from his feet and hurled him across the bleak peak of Tor Drabtop. He landed hard on his back in the very center of the clearing. Despite the immense pain flooding him, the pain that stabbed Khronos most was the feeling of something little slipping out of his robes, disappearing on the cold rock behind him. A leathery, unremarkably looking tome...

MadKat clutched the hilt of Khronos' sword and yanked it out of his chest, holding it high in the air. Precisely then, a thunderbolt left the clouds and crisscrossed the sky behind the jester, outlining his dark silhouette in bright blue light. It started raining harder then.

"What an unexpected boon..." - MadKat said amid the fits of insane laughter. - "Neither sticks nor stones... not even blades can break my bones... Can you say the same for you, knight? Here! Have your steel back!"

The jester lowered Khronos' sword to his eye level and twisted his torso several times before he unwound himself, letting go of the weapon. Propelled by the momentum from MadKat's uncoiling, the sword headed back towards its owner with deadly speed. Khronos didn't have time to react. He just saw his sword dashing towards his face. He still leaned his head to the right and, with that, he managed to escape the tip and body of his blade. However, the hilt hit him with full strength.

The impact was so brutal it slammed his head hard to the left. Khronos' entire bulk wavered and he fell again on the wet rock. The sword still flew for a few yards over the hillcrest before it finally disappeared in the dark. It hit the stem of some distant tree with a prominent thud. Khronos scrambled to all fours as he covered his face with his left hand and howled in pain.

MadKat smiled as he noticed the flood of blood that snaked through the fingers of his opponent's hand and trickled to the floor, sprinkling the ground with scarlet tears that matched the crimson patches of the insane buffoon's skin.

"King, queen, jester and knight... The four are on my mind, but the knight is on his fours... Ha, ha, ha! Oh, sweetest of sights, only outmatched by that of the pheasant king's demise..." - MadKat gloated as he approached the fallen knight.

Khronos was dumfounded. Never since Bard's Horn had he felt that way. He wasn't accustomed to be beaten by anyone. Not even Telluros, who he dubbed the most powerful Mystical Knight of all, with the exception of Sir Astor, had beaten him like this clown did. How could this bloodthirsty maniac cheat death in such strange a manner?

"I didn't even touch him! He touched me twice! And now he touched my face! My beautiful face! I'll be scarred forever!" - he selfishly thought before something strong wrapped around his neck and lifted him up in the air. Khronos fought to regain his freedom but to no avail. MadKat brought the Mystical Knight close to him, their noses almost touching.

"A sorcerer you thus claim yourself?" - he spat on Khronos face - "Why do you think Sir Astor is still teaching you? You Mystical Knights are nothing but dumb apprentices! Apparently, you didn't know exactly what you were doing when you were creating me. My thanks! Your stupidity and immaturity have given me the means to finally achieve my revenge on those who mocked and imprisoned me."

MadKat tightened the noose around Khronos' throat, making the knight gasp for air. Khronos struggled as hard as he could but the grip would not yield. He could feel the gobs of blood pulsing from the hole in his eye under the pressure. Khronos didn't know it yet but he would never see again from his left eye, which would become an empty socket for the rest of his life.

"You've granted me my direst wish. Now I'll grant you yours! I'll match you with the queen!" - MadKat chuckled - "For she shall soon share your fate!

Good night, good knight."

The noose tightened another few inches and the pressure became unbearable. Flecks danced before Khronos' vision while darkness was lurking at its sides, waiting for the opportunity to cover everything under its mantle. Only MadKat's mentioning of his beloved Callista kept the Mystical Knight struggling at all. Guided by chance rather than by planned action, he tore his hand through MadKat's face. But just like MadKat's body was immune to a sword, his head didn't take any harm from the scratching. MadKat laughed in his face at the feeble attempt. Then two of Khronos' clawed fingers scraped one of the fool's cap's bells and tore it off. It rolled away with a tinkle. A pitching scream told Khronos that he had achieved a hit.

Suddenly, he felt like being flung through the air. He looked down and saw the bare rock rushing towards him until it hit him in the back with full force. The gray-furred tom yelped as his back hit the stone, gasping some gobs of red saliva in the process. The Mystical Knight quickly scrambled to all fours, struggling to keep his remaining eye on the convulsing jester. He unsteadily tried to get up when he felt a small form pressing into his stomach. He had landed on his tome!

"Not funny!" - growled MadKat, infuriated. His seizure had ended and he was advancing on Khronos again, his eyes flashing a brilliant green.

"Very well, Khronos..." - the gray-furred warrior thought - "Your knightly tricks had failed you... Time to resort to the only idiom this fiend understands... Raw power!"

"So I'm an apprentice, buffoon?" - he growled loud enough to be heard - "Let me tell you that this apprentice still has some tricks up his sleeve."

He strained to rise, the Tome of Time clutched firmly in his hand. When MadKat saw the tome that had created him he became frightened.

"That book again! I cannot let him use it on me! Its spells might pluck off the powers it has feathered me with in the first place. And likely it might do much worse..." - he was still thinking about this when he jumped into the air, covering the distance between him and Khronos.

Khronos pressed his hand against the cover of the book as he thought of the date and spell he required. The book opened suddenly and the pages revolved wildly as though a sudden gust of wind had hit them. When it finally stopped at the page he intended he pointed the Tome of Time to the incoming jester and screamed the spell written on that page.

Suddenly, a torrent of raw purple energy left the book. The beam was so powerful that the drops of rainwater were diverted from their path and a clearing in the continuous roof of clouds appeared right above Khronos' head. Khronos' cloak wavered wildly as though blown by strong winds. Even the nearest pine trees' branches were bending because of the discharge. The beam hit MadKat dead center, stopping his trajectory in mid-air and enveloping the insane jester in a cloud of purple energy that began to restrict the jester's movements. Khronos held the book high towards MadKat, continuing the attack.

MadKat tried to transport himself to another location but, unlike the spell Khronos had used on him in Queen Callista's quarters, this hex didn't even allow him to succeed in this trick. If MadKat was frightened then, he almost panicked now. That was the difference between him and Khronos. Their mystic powers were matched but Khronos never lost his serenity during a battle.

"NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" - the jester shouted in despair.

"I'm correcting my mistake. If I can't destroy you, then I must take you to a place from where there is no escape." - Khronos announced in a terrible and icy voice.

"NO! I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU!" - MadKat screamed in rage.

He drew on his powers. Panic and fury let him lose all inhibitions and the force he created was colossal. MadKat directed his whole might at his opponent, and as if the knight's spell was a fine thread, he could feel his counter-spell travel along its weave towards Khronos. It finally reached the knight, where it slashed at his chant like an invisible sword, even drilled into his mind. MadKat could see pictures of Khronos' life in his own head.

Khronos experienced the same. The collected flood of MadKat's insanity bore into his brain, shattering his spell. His thoughts cartwheeled - "What? Is he that powerful?" - He was shocked!

MadKat could see Khronos' advantage was wavering. The spell that was still constricting the mad jester was on the threshold of collapse. - "NOT SO CONFIDENT NOW, HUH, KNIGHT? WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE I'LL CHOP YOU IN TWO LIKE I DID TO YOUR HORSE!"

"I will not let an imbecile like you outmatch me!" - Khronos retorted before he chanted the spell for a second time. The energy beam intensified as a new wave of purple energy left the book and hit the jester. Storm winds flogged the barren plateau and tore some branches off the nearest trees. The clearing of yellow sky hanging above Khronos' head enlarged and the rain stopped falling. Khronos kept chanting until he felt he was on the brink of his strength and sanity. Still, MadKat was resisting the spell, fiddling in his mind.

"Come on, Khronos! Just one last effort! He's finished!" - he thought as he kept chanting with increasing fervor, the pain of his wounds long forgotten, the flood of insanity running through his head put aside. His legs were shaking with the tremendous effort, as were his arms. It seemed he was holding tons in his hands. Then he felt the difference. The resistance was beaten and the spell gained vigor. MadKat had yielded!

The cloud of purple energy enveloped MadKat completely and started to shrink. MadKat was in panic. He didn't know whether or not he was going to survive this but the odds were all against him now. He had resisted for as long as his strength had allowed it. Now, the trap closed in on him. In less than it takes to tell, the jester found himself in completely different surroundings. What once was dominantly gray now bore a tinge of green. Yet, he could still see the trees. He ran to them but slammed against something solid, making him fall onto his tail. He got up and walked, only to be stopped again by the same invisible wall. It hit him then: he was in some sort of magical prison. He pounded and pounded against the wall but it wouldn't give in. He would spend the following eight hundred years of his life trying to figure a way to escape his mystic gaol.

The spell was complete. Khronos slowly closed the book as the cloud of energy shrank many times its original size and acquired a regular geometric shape. When the purple glow finally ceased, the prison looked just like an ordinary ochre and crimson box. Khronos watched as the box fell from the heavens and landed on the ground with a loud thud, as though it weighed much, much more than it appeared. When it hit the ground, the clearing of yellow sky closed and the rain started to drop again, hammering down even harder than before, at the same time the wind calmed down.

Khronos looked at the box for what seemed the longest time with an empty gaze upon his only eye. Then, exhilaration took hold of him and he raised his arms high into the sky, roaring out his victory.

When the surge of exhilaration passed, Khronos kneeled on the floor and, exhausted and wounded, he let his body fall forward toward the ground.

**To be continued...**

* * *

**

Glossary

**

**

Characters

**

The Royal House of Megalith:   
Maurice Dagobert deManx XIII - _King of Megalith City._   
Dame Callista - _Queen of Megalith City, his wife._

The Court of Megalith:   
Chief Healer - _The King's private healer._   
Jester - _Former jester to the King._   
Newt - _Present jester to the King._

The Mystical Knights:   
Sir Astor - _The Arch-Mage, leader of the Mystical Knights and counselor to the King and Queen._   
Sir Eolos - _Mystical Knight._   
Sir Hydor - _Mystical Knight._   
Sir Khronos - _Mystical Knight._   
Sir Pyros - _Mystical Knight._   
Sir Telluros - _Mystical Knight._

The Court of Darkwater:   
Emilio of Darkwater - _The King of Darkwater Castle._

**

Names

**

The Council - _Seven high-ranking citizens of Megalith City who, as a group, have been given the power by King deManx to co-determine on his gravest decisions; set up to prevent the possible abuse of the monarchical power (as it had occurred in other kingdoms), the Council has never so far had any reason to disagree with the king's wise ruling._   
The Tower - _The tower of the Mystical Knights; the highest tower in the land, with a mechanic clock fitted in under its roof._

**

Places

**

Kingswood - _A long and narrow pine forest a few miles north of Megalith City._   
Megalith City - _The greatest city and golden heart of Megalith Kingdom; court of King deManx and Queen Callista._   
Tor Drabtop - _A hill in the middle of Kingswood forest, named after its plateau of bare gray rock._


	3. Part 3: Downfall

**TITLE: DUTY AND DESIRE Part 3: Downfall**

**AUTHORS:** C. L. Furlong & Helion

**BEGUN:** July 28, 2004

**FINISHED:** July 25, 2005

**LAST REVISION:** March 2007

**E-MAIL:**   
_C. L. Furlong:_ clfurlongaeiou.pt   
_Helion:_ Thanks to a virtual flood of spam mails, I had to delete my email address, but this text is basically C.L.'s sole work, so you should send your praise to him anyway...

**RATING / WARNINGS:** M for violent content and gore (implicit and graphic) and swearing.

**SUMMARY:** When, years before the SWAT Kats will unintentionally visit Megalith City's magnificent halls, duty and desire cause the paths of two different kats to cross, the future of a whole kingdom is suddenly connected directly with their fates.

**DISCLAIMER:** SWAT Kats and anything related to the series is the property of Hanna-Barbera. No infringement is intended and no profit is gained with this fiction.

**COMMENTS:**   
So here's, at last, the third part of this epic. I must say, this part turned out to be most enjoying to write. Looking back on these three parts already written, I can really say I didn't have this much fun writing since the days of my previous co-work "The Tournament"... Granted, I took the reigns of "Duty and Desire - Downfall" into my own hands and carved most of the scenes displayed here, in this part. Personal and professional matters meddled in the way of this thing you now have in your hands, matters that I have already explained previously. Since I felt guilty of hoarding the story for so long, I thought I owed Helion much more than just an incomplete, sketchy story. So I worked on it whenever I got the opportunity and, as soon as I finished revising it, I sent it to him to be judged, worked, reworked, trimmed, edited... It is true that my co-author changed/rearranged a little of the initial work but what he did alter and add only made the story much better, just like a jewel-maker cutting a rough gem to bring out its full beauty. So I indeed hope this chapter is to your liking, dear SK-fan, who still bears with us. ;) This story is, thus, unrelated to my "Final Resistance" series.   
_ C. L. Furlong_

I'd like to compare the writing of this third part of "Duty and Desire" with the building of a cruise ship: C. L. crafted all the components and put them together, I merely filled the pools on the deck with water. In other words, I only crafted one (little) scene, C. L. every other part. And yet, since we had designed the ship together, he sent his finished writing over, for me to re-read and maybe even to slightly re-shape it. I "thanked" him by stripping the hull, swapping the captain's quarters for the galley, completely removing the bridge and finally resealing the hull by using steel plates painted lilac. Then I sent it back to him, saying: "Here's you're ship, new and improved!" But is it?  
It is certainly irritating (to say the least) to get a text back and to realize it looks as if someone had declared war on it. Therefore, not only my deepest thanks, but first and foremost my deepest apologies go to my writing colleague and friend! C. L., your lengthy "Final Resistance" series shows that your texts actually don't need re-editing, so I hope this "pool boy" didn't mess things up too badly. "DaD - Downfall" would not have seen the light of day without the 48-page monster you wrote single-handedly!   
_ Helion_

A glossary explaining the names of chracters, places and peculiarities that appear in Part 3 of the story is given at the end of this text.

* * *

**DUTY AND DESIRE**

**PART THREE - DOWNFALL**

"Here it comes!" - someone shouted - "The boar is coming!"

The animal fled away from its hiding point, charging towards the hunters. Vapor puffed out from the beast's nostrils as it raced towards them. DeManx pulled at the string of his bow, aiming the arrow down at the advancing animal.

He shot. The arrow pierced every raindrop until it rested between the boar's eyes, buried deeply inside the beast's skull. The animal tripped and skidded in the mud until it came to rest at the hooves of deManx's charger.

"An excellent shot, sire!" - Sir Astor complimented his sovereign as he conducted his mounting closer to his liege.

"Ah, it was a lucky shot..." - taunted Duke Bralnir, deManx's hunting companion for that day. He spurred the sides of his black steed and trotted in front of deManx before he dismounted. He examined the inanimate beast. - "Oh, you've ruined the best part of it, my cousin..."

"Sometimes, you surprise me, Bralnir, eh eh..." - deManx said with a slightly disgusted look on his face.

"Always glad to help, my lord."

Sir Astor spurred the sides of his white horse and went back to Pyros and Eolos, who stood somewhat distanced from the hunting party. When he neared them, he dismounted. Both Mystical Knights did the same.

"What a gloomy morning..." - Pyros grumped. Being a practitioner of fire sorcery, he more than disliked rainy weather.

"And the wind hasn't spoken a whisper yet..." - Eolos stated - "That is most peculiar..."

Sir Astor looked from Pyros to Eolos and then back again at Pyros. His eyes seemed tired, very tired.

"Indeed, the day is gloomy..." - the elder said before he looked up, to the gray veiled skies. He sighed. - "And I fear it may become gloomier still... Something's happening... I can feel the emanations... I take it you felt the magic reverberations, have you not?"

"Over due to the North..." - Eolos added as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Yes, from where Megalith Castle is located..." - Sir Astor muttered as he nodded.

The hunt was forgotten. The three Mystical Knights focused on the mystic reverberations they were receiving. They were very week. The distance and the walls of trees of the Southern Woodland baffled them out. Suddenly, however, they all felt a massive discharge of raw mystical power that neither the distance nor the trees could befuddle, rendering Pyros and Eolos nearly breathless.

"What was that?" - Pyros questioned the elder but Sir Astor was already mounting his horse again.

"That was our cue to end the hunt and get the King back to safety immediately!" - he ordered.

Sir Astor could have a dominating air about him, and, despite the king's great and his cousin's even greater displeasure, the hunting grounds as well as the boar were abandoned with well-practiced haste. The party had soon left the last outskirts of the forest behind them and the ground slowly but steadily started to rise.

Like his protégés, Sir Astor scrutinized the horizon towards Megalith Castle. The castle seemed serene, enveloped in the gray veil of the humdrum rain. What he saw further to the north, however, left him speechless.

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s----------

"My lord Telluros! My lord Telluros!" - a tan-furred esquire shouted as he knocked frantically at the door to the antechamber of Queen Callista's quarters. Telluros exited the room and closed the door behind him. He looked down on the young tom with an exasperated face, clearly showing him that he had some nerve, to interrupt a Mystical Knight in such a manner. The youngster took a step back in fright.

"Tabor! How many times have I told..." - Telluros began his lecture but was interrupted in mid-sentence by the adolescent kat.

"Please, my lord Telluros. Forgive my ill manners but I bear an important message from Sir Hydor. He requests that my lord joins him at the top of the Tower. He emphasized this matter was most urgent."

Telluros straightened himself up and looked gravely down on the young tom cowering before him. It was one of the esquires from Megalith City's garrison. The knights there were non-magical pendant to the Mystical Knights. Hydor must have intercepted him. Obviously, he'd also scared him badly. He gave the esquire a brief smile and ruffled the youngster's mane.

"You did well. But next time, make yourself announced or I'll have you strung up by your tail! And now back to your station. Your master might need you there!" - he said before he ran away, not even hearing the tom's frightened affirmative reply.

The rather violent magical reverberations he was feeling on his way made Telluros practically bolt towards the Tower. Soon he had reached it and taken the steps to its top. He unlatched the door, stepped outside and had to cover his face from the flogging wind, which punished any fool who dared to climb so high in such a blistering cold and blinding rain. Among the gusts and blows of wind, Telluros managed to spot Hydor, who was grabbing on to the roof's spike. He noticed he was facing north, over the Norford River and towards the forest of Kingswood and Tor Drabtop. Surprisingly, the droplets of fog and rain seemed to circle around the frame of the Mystical Knight. Telluros reasoned that his comrade must have been using some spell to control the rainwater.

"HYDOR!" - Telluros shouted - "WHAT ARE..."

Hydor turned around and only then did Telluros see it. The vision drove the wind off his lungs. He just stared in awe as a glimmering golden column of sunlight descended upon Kingswood. The emanations were coming directly from there!

Telluros looked around and saw some soldiers on the nearby guard towers pointing towards the same column of light. Some were chattering animatedly and others were spellbound. All of them, however, were clearly frightened. He was about to ask Hydor what he thought about that strange phenomenon when a massive discharge of mystical power enlarged the width of the column. The energy pulse was so intense that both Mystical Knights felt like being punched in the gut. Telluros was the one most affected by the mystical onslaught. He had to double over and, in doing so, lost his stand, slipped and fell over the parapet, off the Tower.

"TELLUROS!" - Hydor shouted as he saw his comrade fall. Fortunately, his training kicked in and he rapidly conjured a spell that saved his friend. The rain droplets precipitated towards the falling Telluros and formed a thick water column under the warrior, shielding him from the fall and bringing him again atop the Tower.

"Are you well, Telluros?" - Hydor asked, concerned, as Telluros stepped onto the dipping roof of the Tower.

"Yes, I think so... Thank you, my good friend..." - the brown-furred tom responded as he grabbed on to the central spike protruding from the roof.

"You'd better be well! You just trimmed off a couple of years from my lifetime!" - the gloomy Mystical Knight complained.

"Forget about me... What is that thing?" - Telluros asked as he pointed towards the column of light.

"I have no idea..." - Hydor muttered, bewildered as he gazed upon the eerie golden light that seemed to pour from the clouds - "That's Tor Drabtop, is it not?"

Telluros was about to answer when a purple flare filled suddenly the base of the light column. As rapidly as the flare came, it faded. Hydor and Telluros weren't feeling the terrifying mystic reverberations anymore. In amazement, they watched as the column dimmed out to nothingness. Once again, the gray rooftop of clouds was uninterrupted.

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s----------

A foreboding sense of dread urging them towards the source of the mystery, Telluros and Hydor galloped out off Megalith City, followed by ten other soldiers. It took them only minutes to reach the stone bridge over the Norford River. Now, the forest of Kingswood aggrandized before them as it climbed up the sides of Tor Drabtop. Their cavalcade slowed down considerably as they zigzagged through the wall of pine trees but, finally, the vegetation lay behind them and they were climbing a barren path hewn in rock: the final stage of their ride. Telluros and Hydor arrived first at the flat summit of Tor Drabtop and were shocked with the gory scene displayed in front of their eyes.

Telluros dismounted and observed dumbfounded how the gray stone had turned red with the blood shed in that place. He saw an animal cloven in two and, far in the distance, partially covered by the veil of rain, it seemed to him there was a dark silhouette on the ground.

"Look at this place..." - Hydor commented as he too dismounted. His attention was directed towards the dead horse - "This place looks like a war zone! Don't you think, Telluros? Telluros?"

His comrade didn't answer. His gaze was drawn towards the unmoving dark form on the ground. The rain dispersed a bit and he recognized a color: purple.

"Khronos!" - he whispered before he ran towards the fallen body of the Mystical Knight - "KHRONOS!"

Telluros hadn't yet reached the motionless body of the gray-furred Mystical Knight and already he could see the puddle of blood forming underneath Khronos. Telluros knelt on the floor, almost immediately followed by Hydor. He took Khronos' torso in his hands and turned him around. What he saw rendered him speechless of both concern and shock. Even the dark-tempered Hydor opened his mouth in disbelief. Ripped off flesh dangled from the blood-soaked left side of Khronos' wounded face as gore still poured out viscously from his left eye socket. There was another wound in the warrior's shoulder that had bled everything it had to bleed. Khronos' robes were in shreds. Only his hauberk had somehow given him some protection against the blows he received. Partially covered by the purple cloak remained an age-old book, sprinkled in red droplets.

"Khronos! Can you hear me? Say something!" - Telluros asked as he shook his fallen comrade ever so slightly.

"He's not dead, is he?" - Hydor queried. In that moment, five of the guards that accompanied them saw the gory spectacle and quickly turned around with muffled exclamations of horror.

Hydor's question was a pressing one indeed. In his shocked state, Telluros hadn't even considered that Khronos could have died in the battle fought there. Settling the purple-clad warrior down, Telluros leaned over Khronos' chest. He was relieved to hear the sounds of life were still beating inside the gray-furred tom.

"He's alive... But I don't know if he'll pull through..."

"Come on, he's faced that terrible wound from Bard's Horn! He's defeated that insane jester! Of course he's going to pull through!" - Hydor commented in an undertone that might have carried either sarcasm or worry.

"You're right." - the brown-furred tom said in a voice that indicated renewed hope before he placed a hand under Khronos' back and another behind Khronos' knees and raised him up in his arms - "You're right."

"Look!" - Hydor bent down to pick up the book - "He must have dropped this in the battle. I'll carry it with me."

Telluros brought Khronos to his brown-furred charger. When he got there, Khronos' body trembled slightly and he opened his only eye a little. As the battered warrior did so, the clouds dispersed a bit and a few rays of sunlight bathed the red matted clearing.

"Khronos!" - Telluros rejoiced - "Welcome back to the world of the living!"

"Telluros?" - Khronos muttered in a voice as loud as the soft breeze - "You think... proud of me...?"

As soon as he spoke those words, Khronos fainted again. Telluros smiled.

"Of course she'll be proud of you... My dear little brother..." - he muttered before he gave a gentle fraternal kiss on Khronos' forehead - "Try to rest for now..."

With the help of two of the accompanying soldiers, Telluros managed to seat Khronos' limp body atop his charger, in front of him. The party was about to leave when Hydor noticed a small geometrical object standing exactly in the middle of the clearing. He went there and picked it up. It seemed a simple box, otherwise featureless if not for the red and beige patterns on it. If not for its weight, for it was a lot heavier than it seemed at first sight, it could have been one of those kat-in-the-box play toys the kittens Megalith Castle often owned. Confused as to the reasons for that strange object being there, he placed it on top of the red matted book and marched towards his gray-furred horse. Unnoticeably to Hydor, a faint green luminescence enveloped the box for only a few moments.

Telluros took a last look to the gory clearing. Large pools of blood matted the once bare gray rock; red threads striped the flat summit.

"The rain will wash away the blood. But no rain can scrape off a scar once it was sliced. This night, more than one scar was borne. Many more, and many deep... Tor Drabtop this place is called... As Tor Bloodhelm I shall remember it."

He spoke in a whisper, not really meaning his words to carry. But horror creates its own laws, and to the shocked and shaken knights around him his voice was like thunder. Thus his words were repeated back in the castle, and eventually people of Megalith Kingdom remembered the site only as Tor Bloodhelm.

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s----------

The silent gloom dominated the ride back to Megalith City. The gray rooftop of clouds started to disperse in a slow but steady fashion, allowing the warm sunlight to filter between the rags of clouds.

The party slowly trotted towards the fortified citadel. The sun bathed the city with a golden aura, making its walls glint with an aureate reflection, as tough the entire citadel was made out of the precious metal. The wind, however, was absent. The air had a quietness of death and not even a bird or a cricket was heard during the entire journey.

Waiting for them was the hunting group. At the head was Sir Astor, bordered by Pyros and Eolos. King deManx and his cousin, as well as the rest of the noblemen had already passed the gates with most of the guard. Only a ten-strong garrison had remained with the Mystical Knights, as was ordered by the king.

As soon as Pyros and Eolos laid their eyes on the wounded form of Khronos, they spurred their chargers and galloped off to meet Telluros and Hydor's group. Sir Astor stayed behind, a grave scowl visible in his face. The elder watched as the two parties joined and entered Megalith City. He was the last to pass through the gates before they clanged shut.

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"The Council must be informed of this Tome of Time, my lieges." - Astor stated as he paced from one side to the other in front of the white and black marble table where the mystic book was displayed.

It had come to his hands by Hydor, taken from Tor Bloodhelm's battle theatre. Sir Astor still remembered the moments of torture he had had to endure since he'd received the book. It burned and froze his hands at the same time. And the sheer weight was staggering, as though it was not a tome but a leaden mace he was carrying.

It had been a relief to throw the nefarious book onto his studying table. To Astor it seemed the golden rays of the afternoon light that poured in from the window had dimmed and dulled as soon as the tome entered his quarters, as though a shadow had been cast in front of the sparkling aster.

It didn't take him long to discover, in one of his dust-covered ancient manuscripts, that the tome had been written and crafted by one of the powerful arch-mages of old, from a time when the mystical creatures of this earth still roamed free and had business with the mortals. When he finally translated the author's name, a chill ran up his spine... He decided it would be a secret that would die with him... It was also written that the book bore powerful ancient spells, most of them time-related. But more than this Sir Astor could feel the attraction the book was exerting upon him. It was as though it was calling out to him, maliciously whispering his name amid the promises of power. The very mystic reverberations coming from it were enough to leave him slightly nauseated.

He had no doubt about it! The book was altogether evil!

"Per se, it's strong enough to turn an ordinary kat into an outstanding mystical foe." - the elder proceeded - "It is my advice that such a dangerous and powerful object should be locked up where no one can ever find it. If it were up only to me, I would rather have it destroyed."

"Don't you think you're being a bit rash, Astor?" - King deManx asked as he stared at the brown-leathered book. The cover had some dark brown droplets on it. The sovereign of Megalith City proceeded to open the book but Sir Astor's hand promptly pressed on top of the Tome of Time, closing it.

"Rash, my lord?" - Astor's voice was a deep rumble - "Kingdoms have been lost, emperors dethroned because of their fascinations over lesser mystical artifacts in the past."

"Because they were misused!" - deManx countered - "I demand that this book is kept safe until we find a way to subjugate its wild magic!"

"My husband, listen to yourself! And listen to Sir Astor." - Queen Callista interceded, embracing her husband - "You need not paltry magical items to rule! You're loved by all and your ruling is both wise and good. Do not throw away what you have for something that is unworthy of you."

King deManx looked down on the emerald-green eyes of her wife. They were begging him to abdicate of the power of the book. But, how could he allow such powerful a weapon to be destroyed? For a second, he returned his gaze to the cover of the Tome of Time, as if he was entranced by it, incapable of staring at anything else but it. It seemed the book had drawn his gaze, holding that fascination unyieldingly.

At this time, when deManx's eyes parted from Callista's, she gasped ever so softly. She feared for her husband, feared that the malevolent tome had won her husband to its side. She tightened the embrace so very slightly that it was almost imperceptible. She understood that she was doing something not expected from a Queen. She was defying her husband. Retribution could be devastating for her.

At last, deManx returned his gaze to Callista. He closed his eyes and took his hand off the book before he embraced his wife tenderly.

"You're right, my beloved, you're right. I already have everything I want and need." - he looked deeply in her eyes before he kissed her. - "Have the Counsel informed on the affair and report them of our decree, Sir Astor! By their assent, you may have the Tome of Time destroyed."

Sir Astor acknowledged King deManx's wise decision with a low bow. When he straightened up again, he saw Callista's head leaned on the king's shoulder, but her eyes were fixed not upon her husband, but on him.

Queen Callista's mute stare could impart more commands than many a battle commander's never-ending battle briefing. Sir Astor nodded almost imperceptibly. He knew he had just been ordered into a secret meeting with his queen.

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The Royal Gardens were a beautiful place in the cold winter months and nothing less than a sheer display of wonder when the days were long and the rays of light were dancing joyfully upon its multi-colored flora. Exotic trees, their leaves and bark peregrine, their smells and forms unusual, were vying with the huge, broad stems of ancient oak and chestnut trees.

Today, Callista had no eye for beauty, though. Remoteness led her, not ambience. A Royal Garden was large by definition and there were places aplenty that were both secluded and difficult to overhear. The queen walked purposefully until she had reached a corner of the park-like garden, where the location was shielded on two sides by the walls of the Royal Manor, and by a tall and thick hedge of common boxwood on the third. The only way to this place was by the fourth direction, and she would spot any kat on this path a hundred meters before he reached the corner where she was now sitting down on a bench.

She did not have to wait long. Sir Astor marched down the grassy path, easily recognizable by his wooden staff that drilled into the earth every time his right foot touched the ground. After a minute he had reached her, bowing low.

"My Queen!"

Callista rose. She was too agitated to remain seated.

"My faithful Sir Astor, I fear time is short, so will not mince matters: your speech was severely lacking in some points. I understand this lies in the nature of the things you left out, for the courtiers do not truly comprehend magic and thus should not be made queasy with things beyond their understanding. Yet I am no courtier. I know magic and you will fill me in on the points you left untouched. It does not do to leave your Queen in ignorance in these troubled times."

"Indeed it does not." - Sir Astor acknowledged with another deep bow - "What questions have been troubling you, my Lady?"

"The Tome of Time. It was found on Tor Drabtop, you said. But where does it come from?"

"Khronos took it there."

"Impossible!" - the queen replied forcefully.

Sir Astor held her stare. - "My queen, you said you would speak roundly with me, and I ask you to allow me to speak outright, too. Any long answer I gave you would have the same bottom line, and only clothe the pain with unnecessary words."

He waited. Callista remained silent, her head pounding. Sir Astor's words were true. She nodded for him to continue.

"Khronos, yes. Impossible it seemed to me, too, yet there are facts that point to him, facts I tried to but cannot longer ignore.

When Sir Hydor and Sir Telluros reached Tor Drabtop with the city's guards, only the hoof prints of Sir Khronos' steed, Trouncer, led up to the plateau. You told me that the mad jester had appeared in your chamber out of nowhere before he attacked you, so I must assume he did the same on the hilltop. It means either of the two must have taken the book there, for I doubt it that the book lay on the hill all the time, waiting to be found."

"Then the book is MadKat's."

"So I heard my heart argue, yet my mind tells me that this is nothing but a wish. For once, you did not mention any book when this madkat attacked you, from which I must assume that he did not own it. Moreover, in the Tome of Time I found the spell with which a wizard can imprison another kat just the way MadKat was imprisoned, which means that Khronos must have used the book at least once. There is no denying that he was familiar with it."

"The Tome of Time is powerful?"

"It's as powerful a magical object as it is foul, my Lady, and I have never seen anything as evil as this book!"

"When you gave me the amulet, you told me that many kats could sense magic. If Khronos has had the Tome of Time for a while, why didn't anybody ever sense its magical emanations, Sir Astor?" - she defended her friend. Her argument was sound, which brought hope back to her voice.

"There are ways to mask those emanations. Cloaking spells, some even so powerful they change the appearance of an object. It requires much talent and cunning to make them work, and I believe Khronos can perform them. I assume he has found the Tome of Time sometime in the past.

Milady, I wish I could come to any other conclusion, but I fear Khronos caused MadKat's creation, the death of MadKat's successor and his own injury. The jester's escape has dark magic written all over it. It is peculiar that he escaped from the deepest dungeon while the guards cannot remember anything happening on their watch - not even the uproar MadKat caused in the castle. Most likely, Khronos has been under the tome's dark influence for a long time, and its evil ways have tainted him."

Queen Callista looked up, into the sky. When the heavens had turned gray she couldn't say, yet gray they were, the ashen color of depression and despair.

"Sir Khronos saved my life from that abominable jester. I refuse to judge him by these assumptions alone. I wish to speak to him as soon as he awakens, Sir Astor! I am sure he will have some explanations for what happened."

"May the Sacred Kats hear you, my Queen!" - Sir Astor prayed.

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"Dark have my mind's wanderings been of late..." - Khronos muttered unintelligibly as he forced his eye to open despite the discomfort the act caused him. Amid the tourbillion of late afternoon light blurting into the slit aperture his eyelid had formed he thought he saw a dark form, hooded and cloaked, in the corner of his barracks, near the window. When the discomfort became too great to bear, he closed his eye and, upon reopening it, he noticed the form wasn't there anymore.

"Darkness envelopes me still..." - he blurted in a slurry manner.

"No, not darkness anymore... Light does..." - Khronos heard someone to his right say. Startled, he tried to stand up only to be pinned down by the most excruciating pain to the side of his head he had ever felt.

"Relax. It is me, Telluros." - the brown-furred warrior soothed his friend down.

"T-Telluros?" - Khronos muttered, trying to get a hold on the pain ravishing the left side of his face - "W-where am I? What happened?"

"Relax, old friend..." - Telluros proceeded in a soothing tone - "You're amidst friends now. You're back in your quarters, in Megalith Castle."

"Megalith Cas... What happened? Where's that foul creature?" - Khronos blurted out. For some reason, to Telluros, it almost sounded as a cachinnation, such was the coldness and disdain on the gray warrior's tone.

"So you have fought against that mad jester..." - the brown-furred Mystical Knight mused to himself but not in a quiet enough tone to prevent Khronos from hearing him - "You have battled against the madkat. Do you remember it?"

Khronos mind sprung up to the light. He remembered it all: the releasing of the insane clown, the thwarted attempt on assassinating Queen Callista, the despair of holding a seemingly lifeless love in his arms, the exulting joy of lifeless love becoming alive, the pursuit, the battle, the blood, the pain, the insanity, the overjoyed feeling of power and, lastly, the cover of darkness that subdued him.

He also remembered the high treason he had been about to commit using the deviant clown as his instrument. For a second, he analyzed Telluros face. For a second, distrust filled his entrails with fear, compelling him to...

"But hazily, I'm afraid..."

...lie.

"MadKat attacked Queen Callista... I felt those foul emanations of his, and ran to her chambers as fast as I could, but when I reached there, he had already dared to touch and blemish my Queen's fairness..." - at this point, Khronos stopped and assumed his best tortured expression, hoping beyond hope that his friend had not noticed his slip of the tongue.

"Relax, my friend"- Telluros soothed him, having either missed or ignored Khronos' use of the word 'my' - "You thwarted the ill-fated buffoon's evil plans just in time. Our beloved Queen is resting peacefully and totally recovered now."

Khronos sighed out in relief. This he did truly and sincerely, since he hadn't really known how serious his love's condition was when he left her chambers in a hurry, after the jester.

"The remainder of the events is unclear to everyone. The madkat must have escaped somehow, for the next piece of the puzzle was a glimmering column of light pouring down from the heavens over Tor Bloodelm..."

"Tor Bloodelm?" - he inquired, truly lost.

"Tor Drabtop, in Kingswood." - Telluros explained - "I'll elucidate you on that later."

Khronos nodded, though he did not really care - "I forced MadKat to flee there, and followed him, mad with rage at what he did to our beloved Queen. That was my mistake. I underestimated the jester and his powers."

"A mistake we all would have made, I am sure. When Hydor and I went into Kingswood to see what was happening, we found you lying lifeless on the goriest battlefield I've ever witnessed."

"It was like battling a demon..." - Khronos said as he looked down to his chest - "Was I alone when you found me?"

Telluros took a fraction of time longer to answer Khronos inquiry - "Yes."

Khronos looked into the distance, his mind racing with thoughts - "Was there anything else besides myself in Tor Drabtop?"

This time, the hesitation was blatant to the eyes of Khronos - "No, there was nothing else in the clearing."

Khronos looked deep into the eyes of his friend, in search of something more than his words were telling. He found the remotest quiver on the brown-furred warrior's eyes, so small and insignificant it would have passed by any other kat's judgement. The verdict could be only one.

Telluros was lying to him.

More than that, he was now also watching Khronos closely, as if evaluating his reaction. It stung Khronos deeply and he turned this pain into a groan only too willingly.

"Then I failed." - he replied in a false mourning tone. If his friend grasped the falsity of Khronos' words, he did not show it.

"What?" - asked Telluros, nonplussed.

"My efforts were in vain. If there was nothing else in the clearing apart from me, then MadKat got away. There should have been a box..."

Telluros looked abashed now.

"Oh... A small beige and red one?"

"Yes. You found it?"

"Indeed. And when we stumbled across it, I was hoping you could provide more details. But I had already forgotten about it in the meantime..." - Telluros said, looking towards the hills in the distance, beyond the window.

"In the meantime? How long have I been recovering?"

"Two days."

Khronos closed his one eye. Another two days of his life were lost forever.

"What is this box?" - Telluros asked into Khronos' silence.

"It's Madkat's new home. So mighty were his powers that I could not kill him, but had to create a magical gaol to imprison him. If you found it, then my desperate plan has worked. The insane kat is now bound to the box, unable to get loose again. And even if he does..."

"Yes?"

"Even if he does, it will take him most of his powers just to maintain form outside his prison. Destroy his fool's cap, and he will be forced into the box again..." - he stated, falling back onto his back, exhausted from the long speech.

Telluros took the hint. He stood up and made to leave.

"Our master will want to further discuss the matter with you. I will let him know you have awakened."

"Why does my face hurt so?"

Telluros hesitated once more, and this time, even a blind kat would have seen it. The brown-furred Mystical Knight approached Khronos' bed again.

"He wounded you deeply in the face. Your left eye... is gone... The Chief Healer says your scar will remain to the very end of your days... I'm sorry, my friend..."

Khronos watched as his friend exited his billet. Hatred welled up in Khronos' heart like never before. He rose from bed, trying to ignore the pain on the side of his head, and went to the studying table. The stacks of books were there, just like when he left his quarters that morning. But the one he looked for wasn't. Telluros had lied to him. 'No, there was nothing else in the clearing', indeed! They had found not only the box with MadKat inside, but also the Tome of Time. LIARS! They had taken it from him. Stolen it! He turned around cursing, when he heard footsteps climbing up the stairs leading to his quarters. He quickly returned to bed and moments later, the door opened and Sir Astor, the Chief Healer and Queen Callista entered.

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"This is all very peculiar, Khronos..." - Sir Astor conceded five minutes into their disputation. He stopped and looked directly into Khronos' eye, studying it. Khronos returned the glare with defiance - "How did you know the madkat was loose?"

"The same way my master and my comrades felt my battle against him..."

"That does not answer my question..." - Astor replied, coldly - "How did you know where to look for him? How did he get free?"

"I think you should address those questions to the guards who arrested and guarded him. You said it yourself the jester had used great powers to subjugate you all. Perhaps he wasn't as defenseless as you thought."

"Because of the book?"

"What book?"

"The book we found some pieces from on Tor Drabtop. The Tome of Time. It got destroyed in your battle, but it must have been a powerful piece of magic. Why didn't you tell us about it, Khronos?"

Khronos hesitated for a moment, and only the semidarkness hid the fact that the color was draining from his face. When he spoke, his voice was an angry shout.

"BECAUSE IT GOT DESTROYED AND THAT WAS THE END OF IT! MadKat wanted to use it against me and I shredded it to pieces before I banished him. He should have known my enemies have the tendency to become history, my master!"

Pupil and master kept glaring at each other for some time, as though assessing forces.

"I think..." - an energetic voice called out, quenching any further clash of words - "...that we should let our brave knight rest. It is getting late, Sir Astor..."

Both toms turned towards the window. There, sat on a wooden stool, Queen Callista was watching the moon's slow ascent in the darkened skies. She had remained quiet throughout her stay in Khronos' quarters, as if her thoughts were a million miles away from that place, but now she drew her steely gaze away from the wandering orb and looked directly at Khronos. Her expression was inscrutable, her lips tight. Then she spoke.

"Valiant Khronos, you have my thanks for saving me from the hands of that abominable jester! It pains me to see you suffered so dearly for your heroic act. I will ensure that our Chief Healer gives you his utmost attention.

Yet the healer's helping hands alone are insufficient to nurse you to your fullest. Peace is equally important, so I expect you to stay in your bed until your wounds have healed completely." - Here, a wan smile crept onto her face - "Let the kingdom's fate rest on your comrades' shoulders for once."

Almost as soon as it had sprouted, the smile wilted. Callista still eyed Khronos momentarily, and to him it seemed for a second as if she was reevaluating him, before she said - "Sir Astor, will you accompany me back to the castle?"

Astor narrowed his eyes and acknowledged his Queen's request with a bow before leaving. The stare he gave Khronos was like a November dawn in the mountains, cold and overcast. Khronos could barely contain himself until the two had disappeared.

"They are aware. They know!" - he muttered as soon as they closed the door - "They all know! They're plotting against me, I'm sure of it!"

He got out of bed and headed towards the window, putting on a woolen tunic as he went. He gazed at the glinting gray light of the stars. From his window, he could get a glimpse of Kingswood Forest over due north. It was nothing but a noire blot in the night.

"The threat of MadKat is dealt with. I was a fool to concede him so much power. I should have known he'd turn against me as soon as he'd get a chance. But he's defeated now, unable to break free from his mystic gaol."

Khronos looked down at his own hands at the glimmering red flare of the oil lamp. He clenched them into fists.

"It doesn't matter now. All that matters is you, Callista, my love."

He left the window and paced his quarters, agitated.

"Time is against me now. MadKat has precipitated the events. They suspect me. Astor above all. I must make my move now! And for that I need the Tome of Time!"

Anger, fueled for so long now beneath his skin, erupted in a mighty kick that sent a heavy wooden chest tilting. Parchments, books, bibelots and even his beloved golden watch spew from it and onto the floor.

Khronos hissed behind tightly clenched teeth - "They took it! They bloody took it away! The buggers!"

In his eye a raging fire could be seen burning with hate and madness. He could no longer suppress the roar of rage and hatred that echoed in the night. He turned his gaze to the dancing flame on the oil lamp, baring his fangs and unsheathing his claws and conjuring a small sphere of sparkling purple light on his right hand.

"I will kill them! I will kill them all and espouse you, Callista." - he hissed in a low tone. His face bore the lines of hatred and anger, which got even more accentuated at the glimmering mixture of red light from the oil lamp and the purple sparkles from the sphere in his right hand that bathed his face in tones of blood red. Briskly, he threw the purple sphere out of the window, into the distance, where it must have hit some tree that promptly burst into flames, a fiery tiny red spot in the dark night.

Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door. He snapped his head towards it, releasing a low unnatural guttural growl as he stared at it.

"Khronos?" - he heard the gentle voice of Eolos from outside. He narrowed his eye until it was nothing more than a thin slit.

"And I may as well start now..."

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Telluros entered his quarters on the lowest level of the Tower. Being a practitioner of earth-magic he liked to be close to the ground, even though the view wasn't as beautiful as that from Khronos' billet. He didn't really care. As long as he was close to the ground... Climbing up to the roof of the Tower had been innerving and falling off it had been just daunting. If his comrades were ever to find this particular weakness of his, he'd never hear the end of it! Pyros and Hydor would see to that. However, it wasn't his fear of heights that troubled the husky brown-furred warrior now.

As he closed the door behind him and rested his back on the solid wood, he exhaled deeply in a sigh of both sorrow and shame. With a simple gesture, he lit all the candles in the darkened room and the walls became alive by a multitude of shadows. He headed for the small working table and went for a small book with iron corners and a golden string framing the cover. The dark blue cover seemed somewhat blackened by the red flare from the candles. Telluros' hand stopped, hesitating for a second at the perception of the cover's new colour, before it opened the book slightly in the middle. After rummaging through a few more pages, he finally found a blank one. Diving the sharp tip of the writing feather into the small metallic vial filled with writing fluid, he prepared to write another entry in his journal.

"Sometimes, the duty of a Mystical Knight is rewarding. Other times, it's repulsing... Today, I'm revolted that my orders were to carry out such shameful a task... I was forced to lie to my best friend in order to gain knowledge about his alleged plan to overtake my king.

I can't believe he's a traitor. Sir Astor must be wrong! I know he's in love for the wrong lady but he can't possibly be a traitor! He fought valiantly to save the king from Darkwater's minions that night! The accursed mad jester is the one who should be considered traitor! He was the one who punished us mercilessly that night! If it weren't for Khronos, we'd be dead now, I'm sure of it!

I owe Khronos my life for that and many other times in battle. He deserves better than to be lied to. I don't know how I could carry out such disgusting mission. And for what? Khronos told nothing we didn't already know. I lied to my best friend needlessly! I betrayed his trust in me needlessly!

Now Khronos... He's the real hero! He single-handedly rid us of that mad jester not once but twice! He saved the king and the queen from certain death! Except for ours sovereigns and my master, there isn't a tom in this kingdom as noble and honourable as Khronos. My deeds pale in the wake of his and now I crawl in shame under his feet.

His nobility is such that he graciously told me how he defeated the insane MadKat. In fact, it's an old legend that was verified as true. Every jester says his power is in his fool's cap. Destroy it and the jester is destroyed. I always thought that was just a joke, something not to be taken literally. Yet, it was not!

Khronos told me how the jester suffered when he ripped off the bells in his cap. Too bad he couldn't rip all the bells off. He had had to use magic to imprison the deadly foe. MadKat is locked in the box and, may the Kats Above hear me, there he will remain for all eternity. It is my firm belief, though, that, had the cap's bells been all torn off, the evil of MadKat would have been destroyed for all time.

However, that would have been unworthy of Khronos. What he accomplished was an unparalleled magical prowess that even our master must be proud of. I know I admire him entirely..."

Suddenly, a knock on the door awakens Telluros from his writing. Putting down the feather, he went to the door, where a personal servant of Sir Astor informed him the elder required his presence anon. Telluros acknowledged with a nod before he closed the door and headed back to the study table. After cleaning the nib of the writing feather on a rag and putting on the lid on the vial with writing fluid, he looked to the brownish light handwriting on the page of his journal.

"I do admire you, my friend, and I wholeheartedly hope Sir Astor is wrong about you..." - he muttered before he closed the book and exited the room.

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"So this is what you've been working on for so long?" - Eolos asked as he admired the golden timepiece he held in his hand - "It looks just like the clock in the Tower, only much smaller! It's amazing! And it works?"

"Yes it does, Eolos."

Eolos looked up from the watch at the tone in Khronos' voice, a low guttural growl that made the hairs on Eolos' neck stand on end. Suddenly he realized that it was only the damage to his lungs that made Khronos speak like this. Eolos felt the blood pump into his face with embarrassment. For a moment he had taken the voice to contain bitterness or even hostility. What a poor way to honor Khronos' sacrifices for Megalith City...

Luckily, his friend hadn't noticed his blushing. Khronos was looking into the distance, towards the stars, bobbing his head slightly up and down, silently according to something unspoken as he took a cold but reviving sip of the sparkling wine he, Eolos, had brought. Eolos hastened to end the uncomfortable silence.

"It's amazing!" - he said truthfully, returning his gaze to the watch - "So, was it because of this that you lost your temper?" - he queried before sipping the wine from his flagon.

Khronos' head snapped back towards Eolos. He hesitated for a moment before nodding an affirmative.

"Yes. I couldn't find one of my tools, precisely the one I needed to finish it. But now I've found it already." - he showed Eolos a foot-long needle-shaped tool. Then he got to his feet and approached him - "I have one thing to ask you."

"Go ahead!" - Eolos encouraged. He took another swig of wine. Cold voice or not, it was good to hear his friend talking again. The injuries had changed Khronos, he thought, made him withdraw, and Eolos took the conversation as a first sign of recovery. His friend was slowly coming back to the world of the living again.

"Where is the book?"

Eolos stopped with the flagon halfway to his mouth. He didn't dare to look into the eye of his interrogator as his mind was racing. Instead he fixed his stare on the feet of his recipient, fortifying himself for the lie he was about to tell.

"I know not what you're talking about, my friend." - he managed to say before completing the flagon's trip to his mouth.

Khronos grimaced, showing his right fang. His eye seemed to have acquired a brighter red glow. Eolos felt a shiver running up his spine. He could hear the guttural snarl deep in Khronos' chest every time the gray-furred warrior breathed.

"Of course you know nothing about it... Who would tell a simpleton like you such high a secret..." - Khronos growled in a low tone - "There's another thing I'd like to show you, my good friend. Come closer. Observe."

Eolos obeyed. Some part in the back of his mind shouted that he should be offended to be called a simpleton, but he barely heard the protest, as he was transfixed by the vocal power of the one-eyed warrior. He stared at Khronos' scarred face as he closed his eye and began to chant something unintelligibly. Astonished, he watched as new skin and fur rapidly grew around Khronos' wound, leaving only a barely noticeable scar running from his left eye to his left ear. After the completion of the spell, Khronos opened is only eye to behold a completely dumfounded Eolos.

"How did you do that without losing your life? Sir Astor told us that healing someone is a life-consuming spell!"

"Sir Astor knows not everything... Time is mine to master, remember? I only made time pass quicker around my wounds, allowing them to heal faster."

"Amazing! I always suspected this could be done but..."

"Oh, it can..."

The pain came altogether sudden and a bolting warhorse trampling his torso into the ground would not have felt more intense. Eolos looked at his chest and his eyes widened in surprise. His blood, darkened by the pale flare coming from the oil lamp, was dripping from a thick needle that was stabbed deeply into his chest, and onto Khronos' hand. It was the foot-long tool his friend had shown him earlier. Eolos looked up to Khronos, disbelief and shock plastered in his face.

"The wound is not yet fatal, my friend. I will give you one more chance to tell me where has the old-timer hid my Tome of Time. Once I have repossessed that which is rightfully mine, I will heal you in the same fashion I did with my wounds. You have my word." - Khronos growled, his nose almost touching Eolos'.

"You will forgive me if your word seems of little value to me now. As for the book's whereabouts, well... That's for me to know and for you to never find out!" - Eolos muttered, scorn and disdain dripping out of each word he spoke.

"CUR!" - Khronos exclaimed as he turned the spike inside Eolos' heart. The warhorse had rejoined with its battalion and the pain was excruciating. It felt as if it would never end. Finally, though, Eolos' head fell forward onto the gray-furred chest of his murderer. The last thing he ever felt was his comrade patting him the back ever so softly before giving him a gentle kiss on the top of his head. Khronos' cold voice shepherded him to oblivion.

"Brave and loyal Eolos... I gave you the opportunity to aid me freely but you elected another path... You see: loyalty just brings out the fool in us!"

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The feeling was not altogether unfamiliar. Not to him, at least. It came very close to a blow to the gut. Yet, this time, it was somehow different. Somehow, it hurt more than the other times he felt it. Somehow, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Telluros looked to the other two kats in the room, Sir Astor and Lady Callista. He wasn't shocked to see his master reacting in a similar manner. After all, Telluros considered the graying tom the most powerful mage of the country, if not even of the world. No, Sir Astor would have to have experienced the same feeling, perchance at an even greater level. What confused him was seeing his beloved Queen doubling over, as though she felt the very same thing.

"Telluros..." - Sir Astor called, short of breath - "Gather your sound comrades. I fear the Purple Raiders head to war."

"War, milord?" - the astonishment was blatant in Telluros' words.

"The most dreadful war you have ever witnessed, my lad. Go now! Quickly!" - the elder urged. Telluros bowed and left. Sir Astor turned to his Queen, who was still gasping for air.

"I felt something similar in my chamber, just before MadKat ambuscaded me. But this time, it was worse. Ten times worse. Is this what you feel when one of us gets injured?" - she questioned her advisor, her face paler than usual.

"Not injured, milady. Dead."

Callista gasped in both fright and horror. She couldn't conceive one of her mystic comrades being felled by an enemy.

"This might be as we feared, my Queen. If Khronos is to be blamed for this death, Your Highness should be ready to depart with all haste, for he will not stop at anything before whatever mischievous plans he has plotted are fulfilled."

"I refuse to believe in such a scenario! I have utter confidence in my knights... It might very well be another powerful warlock from another kingdom..."

"Nevertheless, the Royal Couple should be ready to depart, even if Khronos proves to be on our side. The king and the queen's lives are more important than all of our souls. You must be ready to go!"

"I am not fond of running away like a scared, helpless doe. However..." - she added quickly, for Sir Astor had already opened his mouth to protest - "However, I will heed your advice. I may not like my options, but it does not to do let ignorance and pride guide me when I can see the wisdom in your words..."

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"Ah, nothing like a good flagon o' ale to clear out the mind." - Pyros exclaimed as he sniffed the foamy top of the metallic container. He took a fast swig at the golden-brown liquid, which left his whiskers bathed with pale yellow foam.

"Clear out the mind?" - Hydor asked rhetorically - "With only six flagons? Your mind is indeed bogged, my friend. Look at me! It takes at least twice that amount to clear my mind!"

"You're a milk-drinker, Hydor; you've always been!" - Pyros retorted after he drank the rest of the liquid in one draught - "Now me, well, that's a different story! You see, I was drinking spirits when I was still in my dad's sac, if you get my meaning."

"Let's put that to the test, shall we? Another pint for me and Pyros, Saddleford."

"And keep them coming!"

"Here they are, sirs. I hope they're to your liking." - the innkeeper said as he produced two flagons of foaming ale and brought them to the table where the two mystical knights were reclusively seated. Pyros and Hydor drank them as fast as one thirsty tom would drink a glass of water. Hydor finished last.

"Say, you haven't been spiking this ale, have you, Saddleford? It has a strange taste." - Hydor queried. The innkeeper, who had, in the meantime, returned to the counter to get another couple of flagons of ale, opened up his eyes in the most surprised expression he could muster.

"Why, not even in my dreams would I attempt such a thing on such noble knights, milord!"

"Very well... Keep the ale flowing. Before this night is done we shall empty your stock!" - Hydor said before he began to greedily suck in the golden-brown fluid. Pyros was on to it as well but, before he even drank halfway through, he felt something that made him gasp and he gagged on the ale. The brawny kat put down the flagon so violently that most of the ale inside spilled out from it. He got up, coughing and leaned against the table.

"I'm glad I am the milk-drinker of us two. You can't even hold your liquor!" - Hydor taunted after he finished drinking the ale. By that time, Pyros had found enough composure to talk back, although in a still hoarse voice.

"Didn't you feel it?" - he asked. His eyes showed great concern.

"Feel what?"

"The punch feeling, deep in your bowels..."

"The only punch I felt was from this ale. I'm sure it's spiked, all right."

"No! I felt this before... Something's happened to one of us... Something horrible..." - Pyros looked from one side to the other, trying to make sense of what he felt, of what he knew that happened.

"You're just a sore loser, that's all!"

"Stop that! I'm telling you that something's very wrong! I can't believe you haven't felt it!"

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" - Hydor queried, which gained him an awry stare from his burly companion - "Very well, I believe you. Look, there comes Telluros! If someone's bound to know what is happening, it's him!"

"Look sharp, everyone!" - Telluros said - "Something's happening. Sir Astor wants us. He says we have to prepare for battle."

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After killing Eolos, Khronos discarded the woolen cloak he'd been wearing and placed it over the dead body of his former comrade, sadly whispering a little prayer for Eolos' soul. He got up and slipped on the chain mail and hauberk he used on his battle against Madkat before donning his purple cape over his shoulders and heading for the door. Before he left his quarters, he looked back at the dark lump that was Eolos, lying on the floor over a pool of his own crimson blood. The sight made him look down for a second, in sadness. He waved his hand and the movement put out the lights in the room, returning it to the arms of darkness. He placed the hood over his head and closed the door.

"I know what I must do!" - he said as he headed upstairs, towards Sir Astor's study - "I shall take the reins of destiny into my own hands!

The Tome of Time is bound to be in that blasted old fool's private chambers... With it, I shall create a second magic receptacle, something I can carry with me at all times to regain my full power. I know now what I must do!" - Khronos thought as a low growl grew deep in his throat.

His footsteps echoed on the stony walls of the empty Tower. Soon enough, he reached the top floor, where Sir Astor's quarters were located. He looked to the scorched wall to his left, a solid evidence of his first fight against Madkat. He looked at the blackened bricks.

"The old geezer must be losing his touch. His spells must be backfiring more often than not these days if he scorches the walls with them..." - he muttered before resuming his walk. He headed for the closed wooden door and was about to reach for the latch when something stopped him. He gritted his teeth in contempt.

"A mystic barrier! A strong one, too. Well done, master." - he thought as he prepared to conjure a counter-spell in order to break the defensive barrier surrounding Astor's quarters - "Let's see how good your pupil is, shall we?"

Khronos chanted a spell that promptly broke the protective barrier, granting the gray-furred warrior access to the study. Khronos grinned - "Looks like the pupil surpassed the master..."

He entered the study and a musty odor of vellum and papyrus filled his nostrils, forcing him to cover his nose with his hands as he released a muffled exclamation.

"Oh, how can he be here most of the time? What a pungent odor! Now, let's see..."

Khronos closed his eye and focused on the one book he wanted to find. The Tome of Time was much more than a mere book, as Khronos had already found out. It was a mighty mystical artifact and so it was constantly seeping magic, which could be sensed by a kat well versed in the arts of magic, such as a Mystical Knight.

Khronos' face was a tense mixture of concentration and exasperation. He knew he had taken an enormous chance by killing Eolos. His other comrades were sure to have felt that punching feeling every mystical kat sensed when one of them fell victim of an assault. Now, time was more than ever against him.

"Where is it?" - he snarled, at last - "I know! Astor must've put a cloaking spell on it to cover its magical aura! It has to be!"

The gray-furred warrior muttered the strongest charm he knew to counteract the effect of whatever cloaking spell he believed Sir Astor used to conceal the volume from unfriendly gazes. He grinned broadly when he started feeling its mystic reverberations. They led him to a coffer from where he finally retrieved the Tome of Time.

"At last, you're once again mine! All mine and mine alone!"

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"So you felt it too?" - Pyros queried.

"How couldn't I? It was so strong and violent a feeling I would have to be dead not to sense it."

"Hydor here didn't feel a thing..." - Pyros taunted as he nudged the flaxen mystical knight.

"I did feel something but I thought it was the ale."

"Where is Eolos?" - Telluros asked - "I thought he might be here with you!"

"He must be in the Tower. He went to see Khronos." - Pyros informed - "You don't think Khronos perished, do you?"

"I don't know... I don't have any answers now. I'm just following Sir Astor's orders."

"I'll go see if he's still in Khronos' quarters." - Hydor retorted as he put on his gauntlets and adjusted his sword - "This shouldn't take long."

Telluros gripped his arm before he could move one step. "Be careful, my friend!" - he warned.

Hydor grinned. What did Telluros think he was, fifteen? - "Not to worry, mother." - he replied sarcastically - "We'll meet again in the main yard."

He slapped his friend's arm away and was gone before Telluros could pipe up again. He headed directly to the Tower. When he got there he sensed some weak magic reverberations but paid no attention to them, thinking Eolos could be entertaining poor Khronos with some mild tricks. He started the long walk up the stairs to Khronos' floor.

"Poor fellow. He's always getting some serious injury that nails him to the bed... He must be dying to get out of his quarters and fight again. 'The Gray Devil' his enemies dub him. I really miss him during our daily practice..." - muttered the fair-furred tom as he punched his own fist.

By the time Hydor reached Khronos' floor, the mystic emanations stopped. Again, Hydor paid no heed to that fact. He knocked on the door and asked to come in. Of course, no response came from within the closed quarters.

"Come on, what are you two doing in there? I'm coming in!" - he taunted as he opened the door.

At first, Hydor only saw darkness as his eyes took its time to get accustomed to the new light conditions. He whispered a spell that lit all the candles and lamps on the room. Again, his eyes had to adapt to the red light that invaded the empty billet. He looked towards the bed, hoping to see Khronos there but the bed was unmade and empty.

"What the...?" - he muttered. Only then a grayish mound on the ground, partially shielded from sight by the bulk of the bed, caught his attention. He moved towards it and he only had to take a few steps to see the dark red stripes running from under the woolen grayish cloak.

With a sense of urgency, he bolted to the mound and took off the cloak. Eolos' eyes stared at him without seeing. Hydor clenched his teeth and the straight line of his lips became a downward curve. He had seen death many times before. But the death of a comrade still struck him with full force, so he couldn't conceal the muffled exclamation of mourning for Eolos' death.

"Where's Khronos?" - he muttered a few moments later, when his logic mind had started functioning again.

"This is my Tower!" - a dark and deep rumbling voice said from behind the blond Mystical Knight - "And I declare death to all trespassers!"

Hydor only saw a red trail of light coming towards him. Out of desperation he raised his fists to his face. Khronos' blade met Hydor's gauntlets, which stopped the impending slash. However, the impact broke both of Hydor's wrists, making the blond tom scream in pain.

"You should have accepted your fate without struggling, Hydor. You're badly injured now; a ripping pain festers in your heart and you can no longer conjure magic with your hands broken." - Khronos said under Hydor's glare as he raised his sword high above his head, readying himself for the final blow - "I might as well ease your passing!"

The blade came crashing down over Hydor's head, crushing the skull in two and slicing its innards. Blood drops splashed onto Khronos' facial fur and garbs. Hydor's inert body fell helplessly on top of Eolos' and a new puddle of blood formed over the partially clogged pool from his first victim.

Red drops fell from the red-dyed blade of Khronos' sword. He slashed the air to his left with it, sending a splash of the red fluid over his bed and walls, streaking them. He put his sword in front of him, pointing it upside down and knelt on the stony slabs of the floor. He rested his forehead over the hilt and closed his eye. There he muttered a small prayer.

"May the Sacred Kats keep you in their mighty company, my friend."

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"Sacred Kats! Yet again!" - Telluros gasped as he doubled over.

"Another death, you think?"

"I'm afraid so... Hydor..."

Pyros' eyes widened in horror - "You're implying that..."

"Telluros, Pyros!" - Sir Astor called as he came down the stairs located on the side of the Royal Manor frontage. He joined them in a few moments. Both knights bowed to their master.

"Where are the others?" - the old tom queried.

"Hydor went for Eolos, master. In Khronos' quarters..." - Telluros informed. The graying tom pressed his lips in concern.

"Come with me." - he ordered. They all climbed up the stairs and entered the Royal Manor. In only a few moments, they were in the throne room. King deManx and Queen Callista were there, sitting in their elevated thrones of the whitest marble Telluros and Pyros had ever seen. To their right, a roaring fireplace borrowed a warm tinge of orange to the otherwise rather spartan room. The three mystical knights knelt on the floor before their lieges. Astor spoke.

"My sovereigns, the hour is indeed a dark one. I fear for the lives of two of my pupils, Sir Hydor and Sir Eolos." - the elder's voice rumbled across the empty room. Pyros looked to Telluros in shock. The brown-furred warrior only leaned his head down, in dark confirmation for his fears. Queen Callista released a muffled exclamation of grief for those losses. King deManx's face remained unaltered.

"How do you know this, Sir Astor?" - the sovereign of Megalith City asked. Astor looked briefly into the emerald-green eyes of his Queen before he answered his liege's question.

"A mystical knight can feel it when one of our midst dies. We have now all felt two deaths in the last hour."

Queen Callista closed her eyes in grief. Telluros and Pyros gritted their teeth.

Sir Astor made sure that his words were fully assimilated by all and that the shock of his words was past before he proceeded.

"Khronos has changed. I do not know the reason for this but he has become a death-bringer, unquestionably. I have looked into Khronos' future once and saw a kat at a crossroads of fate. I am afraid he has chosen his path, and, sadly, he now walks in darkness. He lied about what happened on Tor Draptop, and the only reason I can assume for this is that he is meaning ill. He killed Hydor and Eolos and I am sure he is coming to kill you, my liege."

This had truly shocked deManx. He looked from one side of the room to the other, blabbering something on the sly. Callista noticed this and placed her right hand over deManx's left. That had the effect of calming down the unquiet tom.

"He must be planning to overthrow your rule, my lord." - Astor proceeded - "He must be stopped at all costs!"

"No!" - Telluros spoke with his head still abated - "He does not come for your Highness's rule."

Every head in the room turned to face Telluros with inquisitorial gazes.

"Explain yourself, Sir Telluros." - Astor demanded. Telluros raised his head.

"I do not think Khronos has any interest in your Majesty's rule. I have been observing him, watching him closely. You know he is very discrete, and he lives a rather secluded life. I believe I'm the best friend he has. He trusts me. And I'm very fond of Khronos as well."

"So are we all." - Sir Astor interrupted in a condescending manner - "But I do not see how that changes anything!"

"Please, bear with me all the way, master. As his closest friend, I believe I understood things none of us paid much attention. He spent many time alone, sometimes practicing his swordsmanship, others his mystic skills. Sometimes he would just sit apart from us and stare at the moon for hours on end, sighing every now and then. I know what that is, I've been put through the same test more than once. Khronos is in love."

"What has love got to do with death?" - King deManx queried, confused.

"In this case, my lord, I believe it has everything to do with it. On the night of the feast, the night when Darkwater's minions were captured, before the fight, I watched Khronos closely. He was unaware of this fact, I'm sure of it. I noticed he kept glancing briefly at one lady during the whole time she had been present in the feast. When she left, he followed her with his eyes until she disappeared from view. Days later, when he fought against the malevolent jester, I picked him up on the battlefield and he asked me if someone would have been proud of him for vanquishing that evil creature. I could only assume he was talking about one person." - Telluros paused to make sure his words sank in everyone - "Queen Callista. I believe Khronos has fallen for our adored Queen. He's coming for her, not for King deManx. I'm just afraid that he'll annihilate everyone who tries to stop him..."

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Khronos got up and took a last look at his dead comrades. His eye acquired a steely glint. He glared at Hydor and Eolos' corpses.

"I know what I must do!" - he said as he headed for the chest where he hoarded his miniaturized watch. He opened the lid and retrieved it, eyeing it greedily with his only eye.

"My beloved watch shall become my magic receptacle, just as the fool's cap became the magic vessel for that bastard. I know now what I must do!"

He deposited the clock on the floor and straightened up, opening the Tome of Time and starting to chant the same dark spell he used in the dungeons in order to create Madkat. The lights went out with the might of the spell. A vortex of dust and droplets of blood encircled Khronos amid the darkness of the room. Suddenly, the watch started glowing in an eerie green light. Khronos' voice dropped down to a horrible grave speech that seemed like coming straight from the lairs of the Kats Beneath. The walls shuddered and moaned a lugubrious dirge in unison with the flogging winds. The spell neared its completion and the watch began to float in the air in front of Khronos. All of a sudden, a very bright green ray shot from Khronos to the watch and with it so did a part of his mystical force.

This was the hardest part of the spell to control. In the dungeons, he had let more of his energy into the fool's cap than he had wanted before he finally managed to put a stop to the sinkhole that the receptacle he created had become. The spell had cost him practically half of his mystical powers. Now he was aware of it. He wouldn't make the same mistake. And yet...

Half as powerful as when he first conjured this spell, he could not control the withdrawal of his powers. They poured in a never ceasing torrent of raw mystical power into the golden clock, empowering it beyond Khronos' wildest dreams. Again, he felt as the spell had a will of its own. He didn't have enough power to command it, to bring it under his control. The watch kept sucking in Khronos' powers unyieldingly, becoming more and more a formidable and mighty mystical artifact. Khronos dropped to the floor. With a large surge of very bright green light, the spell ended as abruptly as it started. Khronos was still kneeling on the floor, his cloak covering his body and his hood hiding his facial features. The spell had drained him of all his mystic powers. The golden clock glowed with a greenish faint glow and it slowly soared down to the level of Khronos' face. The sorcerer extended an arm to claim his prize, tightening the grip on the watch and bringing it closer to his face. He grinned maniacally.

The spell might have burned him out, ripped away all his might and stored it in another vessel, but he could still access his powers. His face bathed in the faint glow of the watch, and his grin turned into maniacal laughter. With his watch, he was invincible.

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"Those are grim news..." - Sir Astor spoke after a few moments of pondering - "A tom in love is capable of the worst atrocities imaginable. An insane tom in love is capable of the unimaginable..."

"Then, maybe if I talk to him..." - Queen Callista said before her words were quenched with the powerful mystic reverberations she and the three Mystical Knights assembled in front of her and her husband were receiving.

"What foul spell is this?" - Pyros queried as he grabbed his head with both hands. Telluros, Sir Astor and Callista were equally visibly affected. The onlookers were watching the mystical knights in horror.

"What is happening, Sir Astor?" - King deManx queried but the graying tom was already shouting orders to his knights, having recognized the receptacle-making spell almost at once.

"It's coming from the Tower! Khronos!" - he mumbled to himself. He then turned to Pyros and Telluros. - "PREPARE FOR BATTLE! Let us defend the yard. Khronos shall not enter the throne room!"

His pupils nodded and hastened outside. Sir Astor intended to follow them, yet before he could do so, his king's voice cut through the giant hall - "Gather the Royal Guard. Have them assembled and ready for battle in the main yard anon."

Sir Astor turned. His sovereign had headed for a side door and given his order to the sentinel stationed there. The kat wasn't gone for ten seconds when a company of fifty strong and heavily armed kats entered the throne room and passed through it on their way to the yard.

DeManx, meanwhile, had used the melee to move to the side of the room, where a magnificent marble staircase lead to the throne room gallery. Sir Astor and Queen Callista noticed this simultaneously and ran after him, just to see him reach the upper level.

"My lord, what is the meaning of this?" - Sir Astor queried.

The king, unheeding, moved onwards, from the gallery and onto a balcony overhanging the yard. This was where the elder found him, watching the place beneath.

"The finest warriors in the land." - the burly king finally retorted - "Trained to do only one thing: to defend the Royal Couple from any intended attack. Even from mystic foes."

"My sovereign, you do not seem to grasp the seriousness of this situation! Khronos..."

"Is coming and he will be stopped by my personal guard. They were trained to face any kind of opponent as he soon will learn to his cost."

Sir Astor looked intensely towards his sovereign. He then tried to catch Queen Callista's gaze, in search of some support, but she could only stare back helplessly. The graying tom returned his attention to his warriors. They stood beneath them, in the yard with their swords at the ready, King deManx's Royal guard stationed in front of them.

His sovereign was in severe danger, staying on the balcony. It was Sir Astor's duty to protect him, yet the excitement that shone in deManx's eyes convinced Sir Astor that it would be time wasted if he tried to argue the point. And time was short!

"Keep the King and yourself safe, my Queen." - he therefore whispered instead, addressing Callista. Loud, he added - "I will be back in a moment, my Lord."

He climbed down the stairs again and headed towards Pyros and Telluros in the main yard.

"The king is confident that the Royal Guard will stop any foe and intends to watch the spectacle from the balcony. He has no idea of what Khronos is capable of... I've seldom seen such mythic powers embodied in one tom. I fear for the faith of those assembled in front of us. Yet, for all the uselessness of their efforts, they may provide us some tactical advantage over the impending doom that draws ever near."

"I have a foul feeling about all this, master!" - Telluros warned. Astor could sense the uneasiness in his voice. His words were foreboding and Astor knew that.

"Your heart is full of doubt, my son!" - he said - "Khronos is also very dear to me. My heart doesn't want to believe that he murdered Eolos and Hydor. In a way, a part of me still hopes things have gone some other way that we cannot yet grasp, that Khronos is still one of us, that what we felt was something else entirely..."

"Master..."

"But it isn't. Khronos has changed. I've sensed it in his voice. I've heard it in his breathing. I've seen it in his mind. I just wish I hadn't... But I did. The future looks bleak, my son, I will not hide this from you. At this moment, the deadliest and most powerful foe you have ever battled is coming. You must be prepared for death: either his or yours... And yet you, Telluros, and Pyros as well, are still our best hope to end this charade in a good manner."

Telluros looked down on his gloved hands; the insanity of the situation had left him without words.

Sir Astor eyed his student for a moment, nodding his head ever so slightly - "Hold your ground. Courage is the best defense you now possess."

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The sound of tightening leather straps gave place to a soft metallic rasping when Khronos cleansed the blood from the blade of his sword with a cloth. He repeated the gesture a few times until the metal gave out a streak of red light, reflecting brightly the flame from the oil lamps. He turned the polished surface towards himself and watched the reflection of his only eye on it. The yellow iris tightened as it forced the pupil to narrow. He hit it with his finger and the whole blade reverberated with a low metallic dirge. The warrior embedded the sword in its sheath, the metallic sound still in the air when he pulled the purple hood further, so his face was completely immersed in darkness. Eyeing his dead comrades for a last time, he left his quarters, setting out to bring some more deaths to those around him.

When he reached the exterior of the Tower, he stopped and looked down on the Tome of Time in his hand. He knew Sir Astor and the others were forewarned, and he didn't doubt the coward who named himself king had shouted for reinforcements in his freight. Khronos was convinced that he would have to fight his way through his enemies with his sword, and in such a situation the tome, thanks to its weight and size, was unfortunately more of a hindrance than help. He couldn't afford to lose it in the heat of the battle lest one of his former comrades should pick it up and use the spells within it against him.

Thankfully, the watch alone was powerful enough to overthrow any opposition and it was small and light enough. He groped the side of his torso and felt the timepiece's golden framing warm touch, now clipped to his leather belt by means of a chain made out of the same metal as the watch's casing.

Taking it in his hands, he shot a purple beam of energy towards the wall, which made the cement age and fall, loosening a few bricks. He removed them and hid the tome in the niche he had just made. After that, he put back the bricks in their rightful place. Giving one step back to inspect what he had just done, he decided no one would ever think about looking for the spell book there.

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Telluros scowled, sunk in his own thoughts. Khronos was like a brother to him, he knew him better than anybody else. He'd always had the feeling that Khronos had held back in their sparring lessons, as if unsure whether he should truly hurt his comrades. Khronos had changed, and still Telluros couldn't believe he'd be a menace to them. And yet...

The thought was there, unwelcome, yet indestructible - "What if he'd only held back because he never wanted to show the total amplitude of his powers, of his strength?"

A tear ran down his eye, though Telluros didn't notice. How could such good a friend turn on his comrades?

Suddenly, three explosions lit the darkness of the night, bursting with thunderous roar and cutting Telluros' word short. The guards assembled in front of the Mystical Knights dropped down to their knees and used their shields for protection. Curiously, no one was hurt. When the roaring fires abated to a whisper and a crackle, Sir Astor had reached the Royal Couple on the balcony again, standing protectively before them. Amid the distorted air from the heat waves, he saw a form, hooded and cloaked, approaching.

"He is here." - he whispered.

"ARCHERS IN THE BACK..." - the captain of the guard bellowed. He'd obviously spotted the threat, too - "...ON YOUR FEET!"

Khronos kept on coming towards the royal manor. Through the draping edges of the hood, he saw the small phalanx regrouping, already recovered from the wake-up call he'd just served them. He grinned slightly as he heard the sound of the cords being stretched to the limit and the light cracking of the wood from the bows. His lips muttered rapidly a protective spell. Soon, a faint glimmering orb enveloped him.

"RELEASE ARROWS!"

The quietness of the night was suddenly filled with the swishing sounds of tens of arrows crossing the air as they approached relentlessly the hooded form. Khronos merely kept coming as if the impending attack was nothing more than a harmless gust of wind.

Sir Astor watched as the arrows simply burst into a fine dust whenever they contacted the glimmering sphere. Only a second later did he realize what his former pupil had done.

"He's made time pass quicker in the walls of the sphere, causing the iron to rust and the wood to rot!" - he informed his secret sixth student, Queen Callista, who just acknowledged.

The captain was flabbergasted. He had just hit the incomer with a hail of arrows and he just kept coming as if it were nothing!

"SPEARS!" - he bellowed. The kats in the phalanx's first row got to its feet as one. Soon, ten spears were thrown towards the advancing Khronos. Yet, they met with the same fate as the arrows.

Khronos' smile disappeared when he saw the javelins coming to him. He remembered instantly the moment he got himself speared at the battle of Bard's Horn. Destroying the spears by means of that spell was also harder than disintegrating the fragile arrows thrown at him. Besides that, keeping the spell was becoming troublesome and increasingly difficult. After all, even empowered beyond his wildest dreams, some spells were still hard to be mastered and controlling time around him fell into this category. So he broke the spell shortly after the last spear had turned into dust, only to grasp his watch and point it towards the phalanx. Khronos smiled, showing his sharp teeth, just before he let out a maniacal laugh.

Sir Astor watched the item pointed at the guard assembled in front of them with curiosity. He was asking himself what that object might possibly be when a bright flash of purple light headed directly towards the Royal Guard. Sir Astor quickly raised a large defensive shield and expanded it outwards to the yard, so that all the warriors there would stand behind the magical barrier. The purple ray shooting from the object Khronos had in his hand met the barrier in an explosion of light. Covering his eyes partially with his forearm, Sir Astor saw Khronos sweep the ray throughout the small host. He felt his shield tremble under the onslaught. Whatever it was that Khronos had turned into a receptacle, it was extremely powerful. Sir Astor intensified his efforts to keep his shield up, but Khronos' sweeping movement complicated the task, finally rendering it impossible. He had to watch in horror as the purple ray shattered his defense like glass. The next second, he saw those toms being thrown in the air due to the might of the beam.

When Khronos ceased his attack, two thirds of the guard was either dead or severely injured. Many of them had been turned into smoldering piles of ash. Others were turned into charred corpses with black bones showing off. The unluckiest ones had their innards spilt over the ground as they agonized during the final moments of their lives.

Telluros was stupefied. He had watched the macabre display of insensitivity in front of him without believing, as had Pyros. This was more grizzly and unthinkable than anything they'd ever imagined! And the shock had rooted them to the spot. If not for Sir Astor's intervention... Temporarily overpowered by a sentiment of powerlessness, he watched in horror as the remaining third of the guard unsheathed their swords and engaged their attacker.

"Are you ready, Telluros?" - Pyros queried as he recovered and readied himself for the battle, too. When he heard no response from his comrade, he looked to the side to see a dark-tempered Telluros, still sunk in his own thoughts.

"TELLUROS!" - Pyros screamed, administering a harsh slap to his friend's cheek - "Snap out of it. Don't force me to battle with you too. Khronos is coming and he's not the same nice person you and I have met. He's insane. He's murdered Eolos and Hydor and he's going to do the same to us if we don't stop him. You saw his power! It rivals ours! If we do not stop him now, he might become too powerful to be stopped at all!"

Telluros woke from his stupor. He was unsure about the amount of time that had passed in the meantime when he looked to his side and saw Pyros holding his sword in a downward position in front of him. He was preparing to discharge a fire rivulet.

Telluros closed his eyes. He knew Pyros was right. Beyond friendship was his duty towards his King and Queen. His face acquired a grim expression; his decision was made. He spoke his silent farewell to Khronos.

"We will stop him."

"Now you're talking!"

Both toms elevated their swords vertically to their eye level, bowed their heads slightly and lowered their blades to their right side.

"For Death and Glory!" - Pyros muttered.

"No. For our Sovereigns! For our people! For us!" - Telluros retorted in the same manner.

"For us!" - Pyros released his magic.

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Meanwhile, Khronos too had unsheathed his sword, holding it high above his head and swinging it in a circle as he confronted the charging party. The first blow came crashing down on a poor tom's skull, blowing it up to a thousand pieces. Not even the iron helmet did any good against such a powerful strike. But before a second defender could step in, Khronos spotted something glowing in bright orange from the corner of his eye. It was rushing towards him. He barely had time to cast a spell that lifted a protective magic barrier in front of him. Even so, caught almost off-guard by the mighty blast, the spell was shattered and the fire rivulet shot from Pyros' sword hit him almost with full force, throwing Khronos back a few meters.

Khronos shook his head to clear his mind and narrowed his eye to a thin slit as he gritted his teeth. He got up slowly, always watching the movements of the remaining guards who intended to surround him completely. Over the heads of his foes he could see Pyros and Telluros joining the melee. The sight stirred his fury and pushed him into motion. Roaring insanely, he blocked an attacking tom's sword with his own, pushed the kat aside with the blade's tip in his throat and elbowed a second warrior in the eye, sending him wheeling to his right. Through the gap he could see Telluros and he shot a purple blast at him. Telluros ducked, yet endless sparring sessions with his friend had given Khronos a fair idea that he would do exactly that and he quickly sent a second purple blast that sent the earth-bound warrior flying over the yard until his body was stopped headfirst by a tree. There, he lay motionless and inert.

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The roar bore all the rage and madness that ravaged Khronos' soul and it sent shivers down deManx's spine. The king was shivering and his hands clutched the balustrade not only to stop the trembling but also for support. The scene that had just happened repeated itself before his inner eye. The soldiers, the purple beam, the deaths... Again and again... It was so unspeakably callous!

"Sir Astor named Khronos a death-bringer..." - deManx thought terror-struck - "A death-bringer to us all!"

"Maurice!"

He did not hear Callista's voice. He did not want to hear or see anything anymore. King deManx turned on the spot and ran back inside, down the stairs onto the floor below, intent on getting as far away from the throne room and the carnage in its yard as possible.

"Maurice!" - Queen Callista shouted again to no avail, and then hastened after him.

Sir Astor had no choice other than to follow the unprotected Royal Couple.

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"TELLUROS!" - Pyros screamed as he watched his friend lying down apathetically on the ground. A burning rage festered in his heart.

"Don't worry! You'll soon join him." - Khronos cachinnated as he landed a blow on another guard. They had formed a circle around him again and a dozen blades slashed out as mightily as they could. Nevertheless, Khronos lived up to his alias, the Gray Devil, as his sword surely seemed animated by a demon. Together with his watch, which he used not only as a weapon but also as a small shield, Khronos made his way through them, slashing out and shooting purple rays of raw mystical energy to his adversaries. Seven defenders were down, either dead or in their death throes, before the incensed Pyros was at their side.

Pyros kicked at Khronos' gut with his boot. Khronos fell back against a guard behind him, incidentally spearing the poor tom with his sword. Both kats went down in a heap, and Khronos quickly rolled to the side in order to avoid Pyros' slash. It hit the spot where he had lain just a moment ago, meeting with Khronos' fallen sword and eliciting a small explosion of sparks and rubble.

The gray knight quickly regained his footing. Though without his steel blade, he was far from defenseless. He gripped his watch, shooting a purple spell at the next-best attacker, which happened to be one of the last three remaining Royal Guards. The surprised kat howled in agony as his body appeared to dry out in seconds. His skin got wrinkled and leathery, finally thin and brittle as old parchment, and exploded in a mushroom of dust. Khronos caught the now late defender's falling sword before it even hit the ground. It had suffered, too, and was now not much more than a rusty brown piece of iron.

It was still sufficient to divert Pyros' next slash, though. The aged thing broke in two in the act, which was even helpful for Khronos, for the sudden loss of resistance made his burly adversary overbalance. As Pyros stumbled past him, Khronos used the chance to throw the useless thing at another kat. His aim fell with the sword piece riveted through his brain, and Khronos dove for his own sword. He came up again with his weapon at the ready.

Bellowing a deep growl, Pyros sprang forward, his heavy sword raised above his head. - "DIE!" - he roared as he stroke down on Khronos. The hooded warrior defended the downward slash with his sword but the sheer brute force of his opponent sent him to his knees as a shower of hot sparks came out from the point of contact of both swords.

Now there was something he didn't really account for: Pyros' outstanding strength. He had to think of something quickly or his takeover would be taken out before it even started. In his present position, holding his sword with both hands, he couldn't use the watch without Pyros' sword slashing down through his neck. He had to try something desperate and stupid. So, risking his own stand, he kicked out at Pyros' shin with all his strength, breaking it.

The sudden rush of pain was so strong that Pyros lost his stand and fell to his right, his sword sliding down to the same side. Khronos also lost his stand but fell to the opposite side, rolled over and quickly got to his feet. He grinned.

"Hmm... The tables have turned to my favor, wouldn't you say?"

Khronos readied to give Pyros the coup-de-grace, raising his sword with both hands to his eye level and pointing it towards the fallen knight. He was about to charge when he felt being pushed aside by something rather large and powerful. Khronos rolled on the floor a few meters, always entwined with his attacker. Somehow, he managed to rotate his body, so that he faced his opponent and kicked out, releasing him from the powerful embrace. He quickly regained his foot and looked at this unexpected foe. It was the captain of the Royal Guard, swordless but with desperation etched into his features.

"GET BACK!"

Both the captain and Khronos looked back at Pyros, who strained to get up on his injured leg with the aid of his sword.

"If anyone will finish that bastard off, it will be me..." - he growled behind gritted teeth. He held his sword upside down only a few inches from the ground. He looked intensely at Khronos before he darkly started to mutter a spell.

"The old flame keeps you warm // Fire and brimstone // Listen to the one // Who invokes the mighty firestorm." - Pyros completed and sank his sword on the stone slabs. From the tip came a roaring rush of fire directed at Khronos.

It was his trademark mystical attack, the fire rivulet, and one of Pyros' most powerful strikes. None of the time spells Khronos knew could do anything against such onslaught. So instead, he raised a stout protective bubble around himself. The tourbillion of fire hit the shielding sphere and its streamlines were successfully diverted around the hooded warrior. Khronos' thought had been fast and astute. In many ways, fire acted like water. If he somehow managed to separate the main stream into many smaller streamlines, he thought he might have a chance. And so it happened.

The captain stared in disbelief. Nothing seemed to stop the Gray Devil. Nothing! It was just a second's hesitation, yet the tip of a blade sprouted from his back in following second already, ending his life.

Khronos pulled his sword out of the captain's body. He undid the protective spell around him and looked contemptuously towards the last kat standing - "Is this the best you can conjure, Pyros? I thought you to be made of sterner stuff but I see you're nothing but a mere mongrel, unworthy of the title of Mystical Knight!"

"Unworthy?" - Pyros growled. He gritted his teeth in pure rage. - "Unworthy? YOU are unworthy of the title of Mystical Knight, you miserable hen-bugger! Have you forgotten everything Sir Astor taught us? Have you forgotten for what we stand? Have you shed off your dignity when you made that demoniacal pact with the Kats Beneath?"

"IT IS NOT I WHO STANDS WITHOUT DIGNITY HERE!" - Khronos shouted in anger - "I'VE BLED FOR THIS KINGDOM MORE OFTEN THAN YOU DID! I'VE FOUGHT FOR ITS PHEASANT KING WHEN HE IDLY LAY HERE INSTEAD OF DOING BATTLE WITH HIS SERVANTS!"

"A King's duty is to survive so he can guide our souls to the halls of our fore-bearers! To rise this kingdom above all others in undimmed glory" - Pyros countered.

"And you still believe in those fairy tales, Pyros? With this pathetic excuse for a king that we have? If it weren't for us, he would not have a kingdom to rule anymore! If it weren't for us, he'd be dead a long time ago! If it weren't for me he'd be dead a long time ago...

Where was he when we bled for him at Bard's Horn? Where was he cowering when Darkwater raided this castle? Where was he frolicking when his Queen was assailed?

Face it, Pyros. It was not deManx XIII who led our people to victory at Bard's Horn! It was not deManx XIII who defended his castle against Darkwater! It was not deManx XIII who defended his Queen from MadKat's onslaught!"

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DeManx stopped so abruptly that his wife could only narrowly avoid running into him. Sir Astor, only a few steps behind Callista, had no such luck.

Surprisingly, though, the king did feel their heavy forms collide only distantly and - although he himself did not notice - he did not even voice a shout of protest or pain, but rather shrugged it off as if nothing happened.

His queen was speaking to him, concerned, and Sir Astor was saying something that turned seamlessly from apology into flight plans, his voice getting louder as he noticed his king did not respond.

Alarm was written on both his companions' faces. They had not been far enough from the battlefield to escape the noise. They knew he too had clearly heard the words Khronos had shouted and the heated argument that followed it.

"A pheasant king..."

Every sentence the fallen knight screamed was a glowing hot tenterhook spiking the king's mind. Was it true? Was he just the kingdom's useless adornment? Had he failed his people? He turned and walked back towards the throne room without seeing, lost in his own thoughts, not even feeling it when his wife tightened her grip soothingly on his hand.

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Pyros narrowed his eyes. To him what Khronos had just said was the purest and vilest blasphemy. He would not suffer him anymore. Trying to ignore the pain on his broken leg, he raised his sword over his head, pointing it heavenwards. In a deep guttural voice, he started chanting a spell. Suddenly, his sword was enveloped in flames. Continuing to chant, he described a full circle with the blazing sword in front of him. Wings of fire spread out from the sword and a flaming shape that resembled a bird appeared.

During their training, each Mystical Knight was taught in the magic they were meant to use. In Telluros' case, earth magic; in Pyros' instance, fire magic and in Khronos' case, time-related magic. Powerful mystical spells that Sir Astor used to call "ultimate mystical onslaught", were part of this training, devastating incantations that should only be used in the direst emergency, for they were likely to consume the life of their wielder. So, it was with dread that Khronos watched Pyros invoke...

"The Flame of the Phoenix!" - Khronos gritted his teeth - "No shield can protect me from this attack! And there's no escaping it! The mystical energy will pursue me until it hits me... They say the Flame of the Phoenix strikes like thunder, both in velocity and power... Perhaps my only way out is... But that will consume a great deal of my energy..."

Khronos was still sunk in his thoughts when Pyros lowered his sword at his chest level, pointing it towards Khronos. The avian form seemed to open its beak to let out a terrifying screech before it plunged forth towards Khronos.

The next events took less than a moment to occur. With time only to react, Khronos cast a spell over himself, creating a bubble of time distortion, where time passed faster. The effect to Khronos was as if time had slowed down around him, allowing him to move faster than the feline eye. Straining to keep up the spell, Khronos ran towards Pyros. He saw as the flaming bird changed direction and followed his every move. Quickly, he hid behind Pyros.

He watched in glee as his plan worked like a charm. The blazing bird was just about to hit Pyros in its quest for Khronos. He then intensified the spell, allowing him to move away at an even quicker pace. This pushed him over the edge. Unable to further prolong the time-quickening spell, he dove as the mystical blast hit Pyros with full force.

A bright orange beam hit the burly knight, sending him through the air against the guard tower. The blast was so intense it demolished the wall and exploded inside with a deafening roar. The whole tower then began to blow up from the bottom to the top, spraying debris and flames throughout the yard and torching some of the trees.

Khronos was astonished. Even he hadn't known the extent of Pyros' power. He looked to the destroyed guard tower. Nothing could have survived that. Now he only had to remove Sir Astor from his path. When he turned, however, he saw an enemy he had already counted out.

"Telluros! You fell! I saw you hit that tree headfirst!" - Khronos stated, somewhat unbelievingly.

"It would appear that the rumors concerning my demise were unfounded, old friend..." - Telluros responded as he too regained his foot.

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Outside, the dreadful battle had just claimed another life. Sir Astor's body trembled slightly and Lady Callista knelt on the throne room floor in grief as the all too familiar walloping feeling to her stomach invaded her soul. It was as if some part of her was being ripped away. Another mystical knight was dead. The infamous feeling was proof enough of that. And it was not Khronos; she could still hear his shouting.

DeManx did not fail to notice.

"Our forces are rapidly being depleted." - he stated somberly.

"Yes, milord. Sir Telluros is now all that stands in his way..." - Sir Astor corroborated. The king turned to him.

"You fear for him?"

"I fear for your realm, milord. Khronos is more powerful than I knew. His last magic stunts had me befuddled, I must admit. He must have forged quite a powerful mystic receptacle indeed."

There was a moment of silence from outside, but the throne room reverberated with the echo of Sir Astor's words. It was too much for Callista! All her beloved comrades were dying and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. She sought consolation in her husband's familiar features, yet the battle had changed him, too. He looked... distant. She'd never seen him so quiet and detached. And when he spoke, she dreaded his words.

"Tell me, Astor... Do you think my ruling is wise?"

"Unquestionably, milord!"

"Then why was I not here to protect my wife from MadKat?"

Sir Astor and Queen Callista just stared at him, unsure of what to answer.

"Why have I not battled against the enemies of my people? Why have I not partaken in the great battle of Bard's Horn, where hundreds of my best warriors were slain?" - deManx kept asking with increasing fervor - "Who am I, Astor?"

"You're our beloved sovereign, sire!"

"Am I? How can I be your sovereign if I didn't take the reigns of my kingdom in my own hands? How can I be your sovereign when my hands do not have the calluses of sword-wielding? How can I be your sovereign when I send others to do my bidding? Is this the true nature of a king? To have others do my bidding? To have others fight my own battles? To have others defend and die defending what I should have kept safe?"

"Sire, I fear you are overreacting and underestimating your worth! Megalith Kingdom is one of the richest in the continent, if not the richest! That is why Darkwater had his greedy eye turned on Megalith for so long, so he could pillage and rape, hack and destroy, crash and burn, defeat and kill."

"Yet, for all its riches, Megalith is not invulnerable! I should have cared more for the well-being of my people than the treasure I collected." - deManx gravely added as he turned his back to them yet again, facing the wall behind which the grizzly battle was taking place.

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The temporary silence in which both kats had eyed each other carefully passed. Khronos snarled contemptuously under his hood.

"What chance do you think you have?"

"Chance? An even chance, I'd say. And even if my death were certain, I'd battle with you nonetheless! I know what is asked of a Mystical Knight when he swears fealty to his lord and land. King deManx might not be the symbol of valor and honor that makes a warrior's heart burn like fire but I understand my duty.

It is our pride to be gifted with magics. Yes, it makes us special, even puts us above the king in this respect. But it also is our curse, our obligation, as you are supposed to know! Each of us is expected to give no more and no less than his best for our kingdom, for us! A baker gives his bread to our people, a miller his corn, a king his wise rule. We are the king's magical shield. If we are asked to give our lives in his name, then we are expected to do so.

In fact, it would be an honor.

Pyros knew. And Hydor. And Eolos.

As do I.

The best for our kingdom...

This is not about chances. It is about duty!"

With a determination made from the deaths of all his comrades, he drew steel as he muttered a spell in a dark booming voice.

"I beckon on the power // Of the mighty earthquake // So in my final hour // There's destruction in my wake!"

The air reverberated as the spell completed. Khronos eyed Telluros warily. He saw the thin green glimmering aura surrounding him, unnoticeable to the untrained eye but not to another Mystical Knight. Truth be told, Khronos didn't really know what Telluros could be capable of. In their sparring sessions, Telluros ended up defeated most of the times. But Khronos had watched him closely in battle. He was a terrifying enemy. Right after the "Gray Devil", the warrior the enemies of Megalith Kingdom most feared was the "Golem of Megalith", as they dubbed Telluros. He had noticed that the brown-furred warrior always returned practically unarmed from battle, even though he had fought the captains and the warlords themselves and won. In the battle theatre, Telluros had never known defeat. Yet, he was deeply caring for his friends and allies.

"What a mysterious duality of character... This particular idiosyncrasy of Telluros is simultaneously the source of his greatest weakness and of his greatest strength... I must beware of him..."

"Khronos, you shall not leave this yard alive. I will do everything in my power to see to that." - Telluros growled as he prepared for battle. Khronos nodded as he too drew steel.

"May the best kat survive then, my friend."

"You have no friends left..." - the brown-furred warrior snarled before he charged towards Khronos.

"So it finally comes to this..."

Both toms charged towards each other, their swords ready, high above their heads. The first strike was like lightning and thunder in the night, such were the powers at play. Sparks came out from the point of contact of both swords and an ominous sound of metal rasping on metal carried away throughout the yard.

Telluros broke the duel first, squatting and rotating his blade to hit Khronos on his legs but the gray-furred sorcerer jumped in the air and slashed down on his former comrade, who blocked his blow holding his sword horizontally above his head with both hands, eliciting more sparks when the two blades crossed.

"You've never defeated me before, Telluros." - Khronos grunted as he forced his sword down.

Telluros rouse from the ground and threw Khronos' sword away from him, quickly regaining his foot and closing his guard. Khronos did the same.

"There's always a first!" - he snarled as he charged towards Khronos. Again, the two blades were crossed and each warrior pushed with all his strength against the other. Large beads of perspiration appeared on Telluros' forehead as a droplet ran down Khronos' temple and down the curve of his tightly clenched jaw.

"Idealistic gudgeon!" - Khronos grunted behind gritted teeth - "You will not stop me from attaining my prize!"

"Queen Callista is not yours for the taking!" - Telluros blurted out. This made Khronos lose his focus for a moment, which was all the time Telluros needed to withdraw his sword and punch the gray-furred warrior in the gut. Khronos opened his eye wide when he felt the most powerful blow he had ever experienced in his life. It had been as if a boulder had been flung towards him by a catapult. The impact was so strong it made him fly through the air a couple of meters. From his standpoint on the ground, Khronos fought to regain his stand as he watched Telluros calmly walk towards him.

"Queen Callista can never be yours, Khronos. Even if the king perishes, what makes you think she'll want to stay with you?"

"She will be mine! Callista is not his save for unfortunate mishap! She could have been mine! She should have been mine!" - Khronos blurted out before he pointed his watch towards Telluros and shot a purple ray of energy.

The brown-furred warrior jumped to the side just in time to avoid the blast and darted towards the gray-furred sorcerer, attempting an upward slash. Khronos could just barely defend Telluros' blow. Teluros rotated his body and backhanded Khronos on the face with his fist closed, sending the hooded tom flying across the yard. Khronos quickly regained his stance again.

"Give up, Khronos. There is absolutely no path open to my destruction now." - Telluros gloated as he raised his sword above his head and slashed it down on the stone slabs of the yard, causing a rift to rip open towards Khronos. The gray-furred tom thrashed and flailed amid the debris to keep from being swallowed by the earth. Only barely did he manage to stay away from the gaping crack.

Khronos gasped for breath. He looked back at Telluros, who stood at the beginning of the fracture. He noticed the terrible stare of his enemy gazing at him. He didn't recognize Telluros. It appeared that, in front of him, stood a demon from the Damned Halls below, with coruscating eyes and an expressionless face. To add to all the rest, the thin eerie green aura around the tom's form gave him an even more supernatural look.

"Give up, Khronos. This is a battle you cannot win! You cannot sojourn an unstoppable fist. Do not make me end your life."

"An unstoppable fist..." - Khronos pondered - "Of course! Telluros wields the mystical force of the earth, so his blows come with the strength and power of an earthquake! His blows are unstoppable... But..."

Khronos got to his feet and ran towards the aperture on the ground, somersaulting over it and landing graciously on the other side. He pointed his sword at Telluros.

"My life has ended a long time ago, when my heart was enthralled and bewitched by that which is fairer than anything else below this sun. There is nothing you can take away from me, Telluros! Let us end this dispute once and for all!"

"I hope you are prepared to die, villain."

"There is some dying to me made before this night is done, but it will not be me, I assure you, my friend." - he grinned maniacally - "Come! If you have the balls for it..."

Telluros narrowed his eyes. He charged against Khronos, prepared to deliver a downward slash. Khronos prepared to repel Telluros' attack. The clash between them seemed like a small earthquake, with invisible waves of energy radiating from them. Telluros rotated his body and tried to punch Khronos' gut with all his might. Telluros' fist sank on Khronos' waist area with such force that the gray-furred warrior's cape draped as though taken by a powerful gust of wind. Invisible waves of seismic energy radiated from the point of contact and made the ground undulate outwards from them. The shockwaves were so potent that the glasses of the Royal Manor undulated and broke in a thousand shards.

It should have been the final blow to Khronos. Yet, he smiled. Moments later, Telluros fell back as his arm exploded from the interior, spreading blood, flesh and shards of bone everywhere. The brown-furred warrior watched in terror and disbelief to what had happened to his arm. He didn't understand anything!

"What is to happen when an unstoppable fist collides with an unbreakable shield?" - Khronos queried in a low voice as he showed what he held in his right hand, the one he used to defend Telluros' punch.

Telluros stared at the golden timepiece in Khronos' hands. It bore the stains of blood from the contact with his hand. He looked to Khronos, unbelievingly.

"A spell I learned from our master..." - he grinned before he let out a deriding snicker of victory - "It truly came in handy this time!"

Khronos had cast an invulnerability spell on his golden watch. The spell had been taught by Sir Astor himself and they were used to cast it over their protective outfit whenever they went to war. In the words of Sir Astor, the Mystical Knights could not afford to bear casualties so whatever help they could get would be welcome. Telluros closed his eyes. He had underestimated his opponent. He had forgotten about the "Gray Devil's" cunning and quick thought and paid dearly for his mistake. The "Golem of Megalith" had been defeated in battle for the first time...

"Finish me off... I have failed in my mission to protect my king and my queen. I do not deserve to live..."

"That can be arranged!" - Khronos gloated as he grinned maniacally. He raised his sword above Telluros' chest and prepared to puncture it when he felt something stabbing against his leg. He looked down and saw Telluros' dagger riveted in his thigh.

"You didn't really think I would go down so easily, did you? You've offended me deeply!"

Khronos kicked Telluros' head before he retrieved the dagger from his leg. He took to his mouth and licked the blood dripping down the steely surface of the blade before he laughed.

"My dear Telluros, you did not seriously think a dagger injury would stop he who commands the time, did you? Now you are offending me! Watch!"

With the aid of his magic, Khronos made time pass faster around his injuries, curing them. In seconds, the bleeding gash had healed and only a nasty-looking scar stood in its place. Telluros was astonished!

"That's not possible! How did you do that without consuming your life?"

"Eolos asked me the same thing before he passed away..." - Khronos answered before he buried his sword on Telluros' heart, twisting it. The brown-furred warrior grunted out his pain before he left this world.

Khronos retrieved his sword from the blood-covered corpse of Telluros and snapped it to his right before he turned to face the Royal Manor. His eye opened wide and illuminated by the fiery embers madness, he let out a demoniacal laugh before he roared out loud.

"IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE IN THIS PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A KINGDOM THAT DARES DEFY ME?"

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Unmoving though he'd been during the whole battle, King deManx's mind had raced afar all the time. Now his eyes acquired a steely glint.

"Who shall defend Megalith's people if not their king?" - he muttered, slightly transfixed. Then he began to walk, away from his wife and his most trusted advisor.

"My husband! What are you doing? Where are you going?" - Callista queried as she grabbed her husband's arm tightly. In her heart, she knew what deManx wanted but she couldn't just let him go to be slaughtered. - "Do not do this! You do not have to do this!"

The king looked deeply into the eyes of his wife and the tenderness and apprehension he saw in there almost caused his heart to flinch and his resolve to soften. But his mind was made, nevertheless.

"Ask everything of me, fairest... But do not deny me of my quarry, of my duty..." - he whispered in a warm voice.

Tears rolled down her eyes as her mouth made a silent plead. As his eyes showed no sign of softening, she slowly eased her grip on his arm until she freed him. Sir Astor took a step towards deManx but the king promptly drew steel and in a coruscant move, he pointed his sword towards the elder, resting the tip less than an inch from Sir Astor's throat.

"Do not stop me, Astor. This is my destiny, my duty. You know it. You have foreseen it."

"I did. And I also foresaw what would become of you." - the elder contested - "My king, I've known you since you were a newborn. So many victories still lie ahead of you. Why throw away your life? Let me do battle with Khronos! Let me try to stay this madness!"

"No more! No more shall I let others fight and die for me! Who will defend this kingdom if not its king? Who will lead Megalith's armies into battle if not their king? It is my duty, Astor, and you know it..."

"Do I? Is this all about duty or is it about desire?"

Suddenly, a purple shot penetrated the throne room from the broken window on the balcony above, hitting the ceiling and causing a small explosion. They all lowered their heads as a small shower of debris fell over the thrones. The king narrowed his eyes as his resolve became even stronger.

"The greatest threat my kingdom has ever had to endure is out there, in the yard, and it is a menace I have nurtured throughout the years... Should any of us survive, the Mystical Knights are officially disbanded and forbidden! Every kat able to wield magic shall be repressed and only one shall be trained to take the place of the king's arch-mage. I will not bring further hurt and death to my people by nurturing potential mystical vipers like Khronos."

Sir Astor was shocked beyond words. Queen Callista lowered her head and said nothing.

"So declares the king." - deManx stated as he turned to leave the throne room.

As deManx climbed down the stairs from the Royal Manor to the main yard, Callista fell to her knees, embracing herself. Bitter heavy tears rolled from her closed eyes, her heart shrinking inside her chest in anguish. She and Astor heard the sounds of battle from outside and, moments later, a bloodcurdling cry echoed in the night. Callista doubled over and cried like she never had before, the pain of the loss ravaging her soul. Astor placed a hand over her shoulders, trying to comfort her. He knew the worst battle was yet to come.

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The door to the throne room was blasted to pieces as Khronos made his way to the large division. When the dust and the debris settled, he entered the familiar room. The walls and the floors glistened palely with the dying flames of the fireplace, which borrowed a tinge of red to the mostly white marbled room. Over the mantelpiece stood a large tapestry with the coat of arms of the deManx family, with background tones of blue and silver. A black eagle crowned the field. Crossed swords in chief, over a red open castle with golden windows completed the set. Khronos eyed it in contempt. Heraldry has ever been one of the things he abominated. Coming from a rather simple family, he despised those fancy coats of arms, with all their symbolic tinges and items. In derision, he pointed his watch towards the tapestry, intending to blast it to smithereens.

"Dare not blemish that tapestry; save you crave to be razed together with it!" - a deep and venerable voice made itself heard.

Khronos looked to the other end of the room and saw the white-garbed form of Sir Astor, whose staff was pointed towards him. To his side and slightly behind him stood the object of Khronos' desire, Queen Callista. He narrowed his eye and grinned.

"Will you do battle with me for my Queen, Sir Astor?"

"She is not your Queen, cur, but ours!" - Sir Astor hissed in fury.

"Temper, temper!" - Khronos mocked as he waved a finger in the air - "Such rude words in front of a dame... I thought you were more courteous, Sir Astor. Anyway, enough talk. You want me, old-timer? Come and get me!"

"Inconsiderate buffoon!" - Astor blurted out as he swung his staff rapidly.

Khronos tensed all his muscles. Defeating Astor could prove to be a tad harder than it was destroying his comrades. He watched in astonishment as Sir Astor made the closest large monolithic throne come hurtling towards him with a single swing of his staff. With time only to react, he shot a powerful purple ray from his watch, aimed at the hurtling throne. Alas, it had no more effect than a frail breeze trying to sojourn a cannon ball... Throwing himself to the ground in the last moment, Khronos felt the rush of air as the enormous chair-like boulder of polished white marble dashed just a few inches over him, crashing down on the wall behind him with full force, so that it came down partly.

The gray-furred tom looked behind him, a bit incredulously. Had it really been that old-timer the one to do such a thing? He got to his feet and dusted himself off, trying to look calm and cool-tempered but at all times keeping an eye on Astor. Khronos noticed he was shaking. He was nervous. He only hoped his fear didn't transpire or he'd be in big trouble.

"Is this the best..." - Khronos started but was interrupted in mid-sentence by a green ray of light coming from the elder's staff. It hit him square in his chest, sending him back over the rubble of the broken wall behind him.

"No, Khronos, it is not..." - Astor replied behind clenched teeth. He decided he would give no quarter to his former student. Not after what he had done to his pupils!

Khronos staggered up to stand above the rubble. He rubbed his fist over the corner of his mouth, smearing the thread of blood running down towards his chin. His eye was narrowed to a thin slit as he eyed Sir Astor cautiously.

"You're very strong and skillful, I'll give you that... And yet, like all your disciples, you lack something that will cause both your defeat and your demise: You never know when to..."

Before Khronos could utter another word, Sir Astor shot another mystical blast at him. Khronos somersaulted on the air, off the pile of lithic rubble and once his feet touched the ground, he darted towards the elder, unsheathing his sword as he went. Khronos moved fast as Astor fired another bolt of energy towards him. He quickly changed direction, skidding slightly on the polished marble slabs, resuming his approach to Astor. The elder fired a third beam and Khronos somersaulted above it and prepared to land a downward slash on Sir Astor.

"Sir Astor! Beware!" - Callista shrieked as she saw the blade approach relentlessly the forehead of her mystic master. She covered her eyes with her hands, waiting the inevitable doom.

In the last moment, Astor raised his staff and successfully blocked Khronos' slash. A powerful sound of metal hitting wood reverberated throughout the empty room as invisible waves of raw mystical power emanated from the point of contact of both weapons, causing dust to fall from the ceiling and the walls.

For the longest moment, Callista waited to hear her mentor's demise. When she finally found enough courage to uncover her eyes, she saw the twosome in a stalemate. She watched as both warrior and mage fought against each other using every fiber in their beings. Teeth clenched, beads of perspiration running down their foreheads, none gave in to each other's pressing.

Suddenly, they broke off, as if they had agreed on doing that simultaneously. Khronos' chest heaved heavily. Sir Astor also soaked up as much air as his old lungs would allow him. They were both preparing for the next onslaught.

Khronos attacked with ferocity and as suddenly as a snake would strike at its prey. Sir Astor fenced him off as best as he could. Though mightier than Khronos he might be, he was old and could by no means compare to the young tom's vitality. He extended his left hand in front of him, towards Khronos and, even without touching him, Khronos was hurled back in the air a couple of meters. However, the mystical knight landed on his feet and, once the moment of surprise passed, he charged again.

"Overconfidence will be your downfall..." - Astor muttered before he swung his staff to the right, which sent Khronos flying towards the wall. The helpless tom hit the wall with full force. Khronos hadn't even begun to fall down and Sir Astor swung his staff in the other direction, hurtling Khronos towards the other wall. The force of the blow drove the wind off his lungs. He fell, helplessly, on the ground, dropping his sword. There, he coughed some blood before he stood on all fours. Sir Astor eyed him condescendingly.

"You are no match for me, Khronos... What will you procure from this insane display? The Queen's hand in marriage? That will never happen and you know this, Khronos."

Sir Astor approached the fallen form of Khronos, still on all fours and coughing.

"Don't paternalize me!" - Khronos snarled in contempt - "I have no use for your pity! Callista will be mine and there's nothing you can do to stop it!"

"CUR!" - Astor shouted as he pointed his staff towards the fallen Khronos, pinning him against the wall with and invisible talon.

"You could have had everything, Khronos... EVERYTHING! Respect... Power... Wealth... And you threw it all away because you thought you were in love for our Queen... because your darkest desires surfaced... Could you not see it, Khronos? Could you not see that that was an impossible love? A knight and a Queen? A low-life and a high-rank? What did you expect? What was the only possible and reasonable outcome for this situation?

Here I have you, Khronos, completely at my mercy..."

Khronos had his eye tightly shut, his teeth gritted, his head low as he felt the pressure of the invisible vice pinning him to the wall. A lonely tear ran down his closed eye.

"NEVER!" - he roared as he aimed his watch towards Sir Astor and shot a powerful ray of raw mystical energy towards the elder tom, hitting him in the chest and sending him flying through the air until the elder's back contacted the opposite wall with a loud thump. Sir Astor sank to the ground as he dropped his staff.

"I will never be at someone's mercy!" - Khronos quickly regained his composure and muttered a spell. His watch came to life with purple rays snaking their way around the timepiece as he chanted.

"Time is mine to master // Through ages it flies // You will wither and alter // Until your existence it nullifies!"

A purple beam shot from the watch, directed not at Sir Astor but rather at his staff. The spell hit the wooden retorted walking stick, making it rot and, in a few moments, turn to dust.

"Not so though now, are you?" - Khronos taunted as he trained his timepiece on the fallen graying tom. Sir Astor slowly straightened up, at all times keeping a close watch on his former pupil.

"Overconfident, arrogant buffoon..." - Sir Astor said in a low tone - "I don't need my staff to defeat you! It was just a vessel through which I worked my magic!"

"Is that so?"

Warrior and mage eyed each other warily and contemptuously. Queen Callista stood apart but mesmerized with the powers at play. She knew Khronos was powerful but she hadn't the faintest idea how his power had grown with the forging of the watch. She saw Khronos glancing at her and grinning. A chill ran down her spine. They had been such good friends! She could not tell when that friendship had turned into love. She definitely didn't love him! At least, not in the way Khronos wanted her to love him.

She tried to find in her heart the pity to forgive him, for all the friendship they might have had in the past. Yet now all she could feel for Khronos was anger and pain. He'd killed all her good friends, the Mystical Knights. Above all, he'd killed her beloved husband, who she treasured more than her own life.

"Pity? For a cold-blooded assassin? I think not... Nothing would please me more than to see him hung by his own entrails as the crows pecked on his still throbbing heart...

Oh, Maurice, my dear, how I miss you..."

Suddenly, Khronos disappeared from view. She was astonished! The warrior had just vanished into thin air. Just like the jester used to, only without the sulfurous cloud...

Sir Astor muttered a spell, too, namely the same one he cast on that fatidic night of Darkwater's minions attack on the king. He slowed down time.

To Callista, it seemed as Sir Astor had also vanished, as though the earth had swallowed him. The room had suddenly become empty and silent. Moments dragged, slow like hours. She could see or hear nothing in the room. Then, suddenly, something exploded on the wall to her right, causing a small charred crater to appear. A series of small explosions lined the ground a couple of meters ahead of her. She could feel the mystic emanations of powerful spells being cast. Sometimes, she could even feel the very air in the room stir due to the invisible waves of raw power. And yet, she could not see the contenders. She knew they were there but she could not seem them!

All of a sudden, she saw something colored in white being hurled against the wall behind her with full force. When she looked back, she saw none other than Sir Astor lying on the ground, his back against the wall and his head lowered. A trickle of blood ran down his chin from his mouth and his garbs were charred in some spots. The old tom wheezed with each breath he took.

"SIR ASTOR!" - she shrieked as she ran towards the elder, tending to him. When she was cleaning the blood from her mentor's wounds, she heard something similar to a soft suction-like sound behind her. She looked back and saw Khronos appearing out of nowhere as he undid the mystical time-quickening sphere around him, his fur matted red and scorched in several places, chest heaving up and down wildly as he fought to regain his breath. His hood had been dilacerated and, through the shreds, she could see the furless fearful-looking scar crossing his empty left eye. He grinned at her, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth towards his chin and from the gashes in his forehead.

Khronos made time pass faster around his wounds, healing them and leaving furless nasty-looking scars behind. - "Can you see how powerful I've become? Will you finally acknowledge that the student has clearly surpassed the master?"

Sir Astor staggered to a stand. He breathed in and out wildly as he sucked in the precious and vital air. His body trembled visibly with the strain of standing up. Khronos eyed him victoriously.

Khronos pointed his watch towards the quivering elder. Purple sparks came to life as they snaked around the golden timepiece - "Say your last prayer, Astor. Your time is finally..."

Again, before he could finish his words, Sir Astor extended his arms before him, and Khronos was sent flying against the wall. The gray-furred knight still fired a purple beam from his watch, which failed to hit the elder. It struck the ceiling, leaving a trail of falling debris. Khronos landed hard on his back but didn't take much time to regain his stand. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.

"You're only delaying the unavoidable, master!"

Sir Astor started chanting a spell that wasn't heard on the surface of the land for centuries beyond reckoning. The elder spoke an ancient tongue, with a tone that was melodious and terrible, beautiful and dark. All light seemed to wane as a black orb started to materialize in Astor's hands. Every now and then, a green spark would cross the ebony surface of the sphere, which rapidly grew in size until it reached the size of a small cannonball. Gale-force winds invaded the room as the sphere seemed to suck in not only the light in the room but also the air. At all times, Astor's voiced boomed and reverberated above the sound of rushing winds and the lithic moan of the walls, fell and terrible.

Khronos tried to make a move. He wouldn't just let Sir Astor hit him with some spell he knew nothing about. He had to interfere, to make his former master lose his concentration, to stop this spell at any cost! But, when he tried to move his arms and legs, he found them to be frozen stiff in place. He soon found out that his body did not obey his commands to move. He would have widened his eyes and gritted his teeth when he discovered it was the fell timbre of Astor's voice that was preventing him to move. It was with dread that he reasoned that this must be Sir Astor's ultimate mystical onslaught.

As the spell neared its completion, the walls and the floor and the flogging winds seemed to intone a most lugubrious dirge that seemed coming straight from the fiery pits beneath, a wailing lament for the soul who was about to be reaped in such horrible a manner. Finally, when the orb had grown to the size of a small barrel and green sparks flickered continuously over the dark surface of the sphere, the spell was completed. Sir Astor gazed at Khronos, standing frozen in front of him, near the opposite wall.

"My last lesson to you, Khronos: there is always someone stronger!"

With those words, Sir Astor hurled the dark sphere at Khronos. The gray-furred tom could only stare, powerless, as the black orb rushed towards him. In a few moments, it would hit him and there would be nothing he could do to prevent it. He couldn't even open his mouth to scream when the orb finally contacted with his body and exploded in a large conflagration of black flames and purple smoke.

The blast was horrific and so powerful that most of the stout walls of the room caved in over Khronos, burying him under tons of marble and granite. The roar of the explosion and the falling debris was deafening and was heard in a radius of miles from the castle.

When the dust finally settled enough to allow for breathing and sight, Queen Callista coughed and tried to breathe in. She found Sir Astor leaning over her. He had lunged towards Callista and had shielded her from the blast of his own mystical onslaught.

"Sir Astor!" - she called in a weak voice - "Sir Astor, are you well?"

As the elder did not respond her calling, she forced herself from underneath him and rolled the old tom over on the floor, onto his back. She looked at the sullied white garbs of her mentor. They were nothing but rags. Dusty brown and red matted and striped the once immaculate white robes. But it was Astor's face that concerned her the most. The elder had his eyes tightly shut and a thin thread of blood flowed continuously from his nostrils. She looked at the elder's pale face, the retracted and dried lips, the eyes, sunken deep into the eye sockets... She feared for her mentor's life. She softly called out the elders' name but to no avail. A tear rolled heavily across her facial fur and dropped onto Sir Astor's face, making the graying tom quiver ever so slightly.

He slowly and painfully opened his unfocused eyes. Dread and compassion filled his heart when he noticed it was his Queen who was crying for him. Quivering all the way up, Astor lifted his left arm to touch her Queen's face. She opened her eyes in surprise when she felt the soft touch.

"Do not cry for me, milady! I am not worthy of your tears!" - he said in a very weak voice.

"Sir Astor... Don't speak! You must be moved at once! I'll call the Chief-Healer..." - she sobbed as she caressed the elder's face. She meant to leave but he stopped her, grabbing her hand. She turned her face to him.

"The Chief-Healer is of no more use here... My time has come, my Queen..."

"No! You cannot mean it! You have so many more years ahead of you!"

Astor coughed a bit of blood - "I'm afraid not, my Queen! My last mystical assault left me without energy, nearly without life... Besides, I am old, milady... So very old... My body has taken much more abuse a normal kat would... It is broken, defeated..."

"Don't say those things! You cannot leave us! You mustn't leave us!"

Astor caressed his Queen's cheek ever so softly - "Dearest Queen... I must leave you... It is not in my hands anymore... But, at least, I'll leave you with the knowledge that I've protected my liege to my very last breath, that I've taken the most powerful mage this kingdom has ever known with me... For Khronos was indeed powerful... The deadliest foe that ever has been placed in my path... It is so sad that he had to be destroyed..." - Astor coughed again and started wheezing out audibly with each breath he took.

"What of my training, Sir Astor? How can I replace you, the wisest and most powerful of mages? Please, do not place this burden onto my back!"

"Sweet Queen, your training is indeed incomplete... Yet, the teachings of magic will survive me in the form of books. They are still in the tower for you to study, and you possess enough power to defy any who crosses your path!" - he passed his hand over the golden casing of the emerald amulet - "The mystic receptacle you wear will help you well but do not rely only on its powers. You must practice hard in order to become a great magician. As for wisdom, you already possess more than I ever would have. Trust this..." - he pointed to her heart - "... but temper its whims with a bit of this!" - he pointed to her forehead.

Sir Astor touched his queen's tear-stained face again - "Do not be afraid, milady... You will be well..."

Callista was about to say something when, out of the blue, a purple beam of raw mystical power came from behind her and hit the limp form of Sir Astor. The elder's body jerked up in spasm and sagged back, limp. Callista held on to the elder's head, which hung back flaccidly in her arm. His eyes were wide open and stared without seeing. Blood ran freely from his nostrils and from the corner of his mouth. Callista couldn't believe in what had just happened. Sir Astor was dead! She held the old tom close to her.

"Don't worry about that, old-timer... She will be well... As my spouse!" - a disdainful voice said from behind.

Khronos had come out from underneath the pile of rubble. Blood matted his body in several places, where bleeding gashes had been carved from the falling stones. His left arm was completely broken, as were a few of his ribs. Ripped out flesh dangled from his face and chest revealing white patches of bare bone. Yet, a smile was on his face, now that the last obstacle to his marriage with Callista had been successfully removed from his path.

"Now, Callista, it is time to forget the past and think about your future with me!"

He gave an awkward step towards Callista but the pain of his broken left foot made him cast his rejuvenating spell over himself, which made time pass quicker around his wounds, healing them. However, his wounds were too severe and deep and his mystical power has lowered due to the mystical onslaughts he received and served. It took Khronos his last reserves to redirect his spell so that his bones knitted, but they did it only crudely and the wounds to his body were still open and bleeding heavily.

Callista shed heavy and bitter tears in mourning for her master, Sir Astor. She heard Khronos approach slowly from behind her. She opened her eyes and a steely glint could be seen on them. A rage grew inside her heart, a rage so powerful and wild that her eyes began to glow in a golden light. She clenched her teeth until blood started to pour from the corner of her mouth.

Khronos stopped befuddled. He was feeling rather powerful mystical emanations. - "Who could be summoning such power? It cannot be Sir Astor! He's dead!"

He was still sunk in these thoughts when Calista turned around to face him. He widened his eyes and opened his mouth in shock when he saw Callista's eyes glowing like torches. The mystical emanations were coming from her!

"You have caused too many deaths today, Khronos... My friends, my husband and now my master lie dead in your wake... This can never be forgotten nor forgiven... Today, you meet your judgment and your sentence is: death!"

Callista's hair rose in colubrid frenzy as she conjured a spell. Khronos was speechless. He never thought his beloved to be an apprentice of Wicca. He didn't know what to do! Callista shot a green ray of energy from her amulet, sending the mangled gray-furred tom back against the remains of the wall. He fell down, smearing the wall with his own blood. Coughing and vomiting his vital fluid, he looked up and saw Callista hovering above him, sparks crossing the emerald surface of her amulet, her face dark and terrible as the tempestuous sea. For the first time ever, Khronos felt afraid of a she-kat. He crawled back over the rubble, eye wide open in fear.

"The ill-use of magical powers must be punished and his wielder made an example for everyone else. Prepare to receive your castigation for your fell deeds."

And with those words, she let out a powerful discharge against Khronos. Bright green thunders left her amulet and stroke Khronos with full force, making the tom arch his body spasmodically as he howled in pain. When the mystic attack ceased, Khronos lay in a heap, aching with every movement he made. His eye was closed in pain. The spell he had cast over his injuries hadn't had enough time to heal his wounds capably. He was bleeding from several deep gashes. Callista hovered above him, beautiful and terrible.

"You disgust me, Khronos! How could you descend so low? I will never be yours! I despise thee! I loathe thee!"

Her words were like daggers riveting in his heart. How cruel could this she-kat be? Couldn't she see he'd done all of this for her? That he'd left everything for her? How could she deny him so? How could she spurn him so? Khronos narrowed his eye as it acquired a steely and evil glint.

"I will not be denied! You will become my bride! Even if this means I will have to alter the future, the present and even the past to do so!" - he grunted before he cast his healing spell again. Once more, his wounds started to regenerate as time passed quicker around them.

"Never, Khronos! Never!"

He growled as he straightened up and grabbed her hand tightly.

"Obscene slob! Unhand me!" - she demanded but, instead, he tightened the grip around her wrist. A wild sneer appeared in his face.

"Do you perchance think it didn't hurt to dispose of them all? They were my friends, Callista, all of them! Even your pheasant of a king surprised me! I thought him incapable of his last deeds! I must confess they were... unexpected..."

Callista eyed him closely, not truly believing what she was hearing. Khronos' ears drooped as his eye narrowed, gazing towards the ground. She was surprised to see what seemed to be sorrow and sadness in his expression.

"It was a worthy ending for a king, facing a foe that was vastly beyond him. He did not suffer much, Callista. I killed him quickly and cleanly."

Anger welled up in Callista's heart once more as a lonely tear hung on the corner of her eye. Unaware of this, Khronos continued in a rumble.

"Astor taught me everything I know. Don't you think it was hard to eliminate him too? It is true, I outgrew him in power but he seemed to fear that I could overthrow him. That was insane! Isn't it the wish of every master to see their pupils surpass them? And Telluros... My good friend Telluros..."

He looked directly to Callista. Once again, she was surprised with his expression. A tear ran down his facial fur, mingling with the blood of his injuries and streaking his cheek in red.

"Telluros was my best friend! He was the only one I ever considered confiding my love for you! Even he turned on me! You should have seen him when I fought against him. He used every ounce of energy, every fiber of his body to overthrow me! What a fighter that he was!" - Khronos said, pride dripping from every word he spoke. His gaze turned back towards the ground.

"You should have seen the warrior Telluros, the 'Golem of Megalith' in action... He was like a beast from the Damned Halls beneath. I was lucky to survive him! But you, Sir Astor and your king turned him on me! Never before have I seen Telluros fight with so much passion! You three murdered Telluros, not I!"

She could not believe her own ears. Khronos was blaming her for the deaths of them all? She decided that Khronos was indeed insane.

"Dead they all are... But they are not lost..." - he said in a whisper.

"What?" - she hissed, both in rage and surprise.

"I'm the most powerful sorcerer this world has ever seen, Callista. With the Tome of Time, there is no stopping me! And with the Tome of Time, I can bring them all back from the dead!"

She eyed him in both horror and disgust.

"Marry me, Callista! Marry me and I will bring them all back! Yes, I am that powerful. I can raise the dead and restore them to life! It is simple enough to bring back the past with the Tome of Time."

"That book is altogether evil, Khronos! You are a fool to wield it!"

"No! Astor was the fool. What would he do with it, Callista? Did his sense of duty order him to destroy it? Or did he secretly desire it? He knew the power of the book! And he always feared that I could overpower him. He would use the book to destroy us, our love and our kingdom!

Did he tell you the name of the author of the Tome of Time? Did he?"

Callista did not respond.

"PastMaster was his name... In his days, he controlled time with the aid of the book. The past had no secrets to him! The past was his realm!

Thousands of years later, another comes that is capable of wielding the same book, the same powers! Time is mine to command! The past has no secrets to me! The past is my realm! I command the Tome of Time! I COMMAND TIME ITSELF!" - he screamed, his voice lost in the fires of madness.

He looked directly to Callista, their noses almost touching. She could feel the intensity of his stare as though it was a blazing iron poking in her brain. He proceeded in a rumbling tone.

"Khronos you have called me thus far... Khronos was a name of a subordinate, a knight in his majesty's service who could do but a few tricks related with time! That knight, Callista, is dead... The name Khronos is unworthy of the one who commands time, of the one true master of the Tome of Time...

I now change my name... Let it be known that I now take the name of the wizard who crafted the Tome of Time... Let it be known that I am its master and the master of all time...

I AM THE PASTMASTER!"

She looked to him in puzzlement. She didn't indeed recognize Khronos in front of her anymore. Whatever remained of the brave and fair knight was now lost to madness and vain ambition. Slowly, her perplexity turned to disgust and rage.

"You would even use your grief as a cloak to achieve your intentions! Khronos you were once called but you are no longer worthy of that name! Indeed, from now on, my foe's name will be known as the PastMaster, for madness has indeed consumed you!" - she said before she spat in his face.

He growled - "You will learn to love and respect me... as your beloved husband and lord!"

She let out a disgusted exclamation - "I'd rather die!"

"I'd bring you back with my powers!" - he grinned.

A chill of disgust ravaged Callista's being and her soul. She realized then what she had to do. She started to chant a spell in an ancient tongue and, just like it happened to Sir Astor, the light faded away as the moon and the stars became veiled by a cloak of dark clouds. Khronos, now named PastMaster, struck Callista in the face, ripping her cheek with one of his rings. Even so, Callista did not stop. Her voice fell and became a grave tone, so dark and terrible that even the Pastmaster clenched his teeth in fear.

When he prepared to strike her again, his body jerked spasmodically in pain. His eye was wide open with fear. He felt his very life being reaped away from his body! He screamed an unholy roar of pain and let go of Callista, but it was her who now held him with both her hands. Her eyes sparkled in golden bright light as the spell continued to suck the life out of him. His flesh became rotten and then fell off in dry patches before it turned to a fine dust. His innards fell, a red bloody mass at Callista's feet, promptly turning to dust as well. The PastMaster's howl soon became a banshee's wail as it echoed in the night. His bare skeleton, covered by the shreds of his purple robe, shrank and turned to a bloody shade of red. He looked at Callista with his only eye, one of the few organs still remaining in his body. His stare begged Callista to stop, to spare him, but nothing could end the Queen's deadly invocation. The Khronos she had known was gone and the PastMaster had long since forfeited any request. With grim satisfaction, she saw his eye glaze over.

An explosion lit the night and threw both Callista and the PastMaster in opposite directions. Callista saw the former Mystical Knight fall lifelessly over the rubble of marble and granite before she, too, passed out. The silence finally returned to the destroyed Royal Manor.

Evil, in the form of the PastMaster, was at long last defeated!

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_Of all the kats still living in Megalith City, only three were daring enough to venture near the destroyed Royal Manor. The remainder was either too frightened or too superstitious to come. These three became Megalith Kingdom's most trustworthy knights in the days to follow, even if the days of the city were numbered already._

_They found me inside the rubble of the destroyed throne room, unconscious yet otherwise I appeared perfectly well to them, save for the rip on my cheek. They could not know of the power, the effort and the pain it had cost me to perform my ultimate mystical onslaught. And I am glad they could not, glad they had never had the spark to wield magic, never had the taint of it. A part of me died on that day, and for some time, the other part of me wanted to die as well. Only the duty to my subjects prevented me from following my beloved husband._

_As it were, they took me to the Chief-Healer, who nourished me back to health, and I came to late in the morning after the great battle._

_The three courageous knights also found the reddish skeleton atop the pile of rubble, a golden watch still chained to its tattered robes. Brave as they were, they were too superstitious to touch such a bad omen. So the vile thing lay there in the former center of our realm, until I was sound enough to deal with state affairs again, and the first business I put myself upon to do was to dispose the remains of Khronos. I eyed him with much consideration and, although I longed for Sir Astor to still be alive to advise me, I decided Khronos, not the PastMaster, would have some honors in his funeral. I let him wear fresh clothes from the Purple Company and left the mystical recipient Khronos had generated rest with him. I was a bit puzzled with the fact that his skeleton had shrunk. I didn't know the spell I cast could do that. There were many things I did not know at the time, things that would play a crucial role in the future of Megalith City..._

_The PastMaster was placed inside a trunk, according to the kingdom's custom for the burial of traitors to lord and land, and buried in the common's graveyard. Honors, yes, but punishment as well._

_After that, I attended to the burial of my beloved husband, my mentor and my dearest friends, the Mystical Knights who so bravely fought against monumental opposing forces to protect their lord. All had the highest honors and were entombed as heroes. Even so, I came to know that some of the nobles spoke against me, that the kingdom was now weak without a male figure to rule, that I had paid more attention to the enemy of the kingdom, burying him first, than to my husband and the ones who tried to protect me. Little do they know..._

_As the years after came to prove, Megalith had never known years as golden as those when I ruled. I commanded the fates of the kingdom with wisdom and charity but also with firmness and resolution, as my husband would have. And I respected his last decree, that no more Mystical Knights would be nurtured and all magic wielders would be discouraged to do so. The kingdom prospered much in those years. Alas, that it had to be during my rule that the most horrid events happened to Megalith City, events that, in time, caused the destruction of the mighty citadel._

_For, unknown to me, a terrible bond had been forged from the battle between the PastMaster and I. At the time, I cast that terrible and fell incantation as he had cast his healing spell over himself. The combination of both spells had had a tragic result that sealed the fate of Megalith City:_

_In his tomb, the bones of the PastMaster rested and waited, passing out of all knowledge for over eight hundred years. The great mystical battle that took place inside the Royal Manor of Megalith Castle was forgotten to most of the passing generations and history became legend, which, in turn, became myth... And some things that should have remained buried and forgotten for all time were unearthed by greedy and unscrupulous kats..._

_The PastMaster rose again!_

_Yes, the struggle is yet to be finished... The doom of our people will be decided, not in Megalith Kingdom, but in the metropolis that has been built upon its pillars: Megakat City..._

_The waters stir..._

_The wind whines..._

_The earth revolves..._

_It has come to it at last... The greatest battle of this time..._

**To be continued...**

* * *

**

Glossary

**

**

Characters

**

The Royal House of Megalith:   
Maurice Dagobert deManx XIII - _King of Megalith City._   
Dame Callista - _Queen of Megalith City, his wife._

The Court of Megalith:   
Chief Healer - _The King's private healer._   
MadKat - _Former jester to the King._

The Mystical Knights:   
Sir Astor - _The Arch-Mage, leader of the Mystical Knights and counselor to the King and Queen._   
Sir Eolos - _Mystical Knight._   
Sir Hydor - _Mystical Knight._   
Sir Khronos - _Mystical Knight._   
Sir Pyros - _Mystical Knight._   
Sir Telluros - _Mystical Knight._

**

Names

**

The Council - _Seven high-ranking citizens of Megalith City who, as a group, have been given the power by King deManx to co-determine on his gravest decisions; set up to prevent the possible abuse of the monarchical power (as it had occurred in other kingdoms), the Council has never so far had any reason to disagree with the king's wise ruling._   
The Royal Manor - _Home to the King and Queen of Megalith City, harboring the royal accommodations and the throne room._   
The Tower - _The tower of the Mystical Knights; the highest tower in the land, with a mechanic clock fitted in under its roof._

**

Places

**

Kingswood - _A long and narrow pine forest a few miles north of Megalith City._   
Megalith City - _The greatest city and golden heart of Megalith Kingdom; court of King deManx and Queen Callista._   
Tor Bloodhelm - _Name for which Tor Drabtop became known after the great battle that took place there._   
Tor Drabtop - _A hill in the middle of Kingswood forest, named after its plateau of bare gray rock._


	4. Part 4: History Unmade

**TITLE: DUTY AND DESIRE - Part 4: History Unmade**

**AUTHOR: **C. L. Furlong

**BEGUN: **June 01, 2006

**FINISHED: **June 15, 2009

**LAST REVISION: **July 27, 2009

**CONTACTS: **you may reach clfurlong through his email account located at tugamail dot com

**RATING: **M for violent content and gore (implicit and graphic), swearing and angst.

**SUMMARY: **When, years before the SWAT Kats will unintentionally visit Megalith City's magnificent halls, duty and desire cause the paths of two different kats to cross, the future of a whole kingdom is suddenly connected directly with their fates.

**DISCLAIMER: **SWAT Kats and anything related to the series is the property of Hanna-Barbera. No infringement is intended and no profit is gained with this fiction.

**COMMENTS: **Oh, my God, it's finally finished! This whole series of stories took almost seven years but it's finally done! Never before a story had me occupied for so long but also never before have I and Helion attempted to craft nearly from scratch part of the mythos that surrounded the PastMaster and MadKat. So much could be said, so many stories could be woven but this "monster" had to come to an end some day. I'm pleased with my contribution to this final chapter of this epic story. If you could see the smile I have on my face for finally being able to finish this story you could understand how important this piece of writing was to me.  
However, as you probably noticed, Helion's name is missing from the "authors" section and there is no comment from him here. There's an explanation for that. The fact was that I wrote about 95% of "History Unmade" and Helion the remaining 5%. He feels he didn't help at all in the making of this chapter so he told me to erase his name from the "authors" section. Well, while I did write the largest portion of this chapter, I just know that you, the attentive reader, will undoubtedly see Helion's hand throughout the story.  
I truly hope you can enjoy yourselves while reading this chapter but be forewarned: this is a story with a definitive murky ending that many won't appreciate! Parts One to Three of "Duty and Desire" form a self-contained unit and you need not read this part to understand the story!

* * *

**DUTY AND DESIRE**

**PART FOUR - HISTORY UNMADE**

Dr. Abby Sinian's eyes were gleaming, just as they always did when she was unearthing history. Giving life back to ancient achievements and peculiarities so that Katkind could share the wonders of the past with a visit to the Megakat Museum of History was an indescribable bliss.

The history Abby had slowly been putting together throughout the night was exceptional in many ways. For once, there was no need for archeological excavations to unearth past's secrets - all the mysteries were hidden in the words, in scrolls and parchments with writings so faded as only time could bleach them. She'd just managed to finish her first reading and she was simply staggered with their content. Taken together, those writs told a heinous story of betrayal and death. Moreover, although it related directly to the past of Megakat City - to an ancient chapter buried deeply for its darkness - the history, exceptionally, centered on kats still living.

She closed her eyes, trying to sort out the plotline of this fabulous story in her mind as it extended back eight hundred years in time. The manuscripts at her side told of a tom, Sir Khronos, a powerful sorcerer completely devoted to his King and Queen's cause, and of his nefarious fate.

_Khronos was a fine soldier, part of the so-called Purple Company, the elite guard of King de Manx XIII and Queen Callista of Megalith City. Still, he was no ordinary fighter, but one of the rare and ever-decreasing stock of kats with the inborn ability to wield magic. Trained only by the best, these sorcerers became the Mystical Knights, the magic spearhead of the Purple Company, and the most feared warriors in the known world._

When an invasion party from a neighboring realm, commanded by a certain Lord Tyrakks of Darkwater and helped from the inside by the scorned former Royal Jester, sneaked past Megalith City's defenses, it was Khronos, along with his comrades Telluros, Pyros, Eolos and Hydor, who opposed them. While the other four Mystical Knights engaged and finally defeated Lord Tyrakks and his kats in battle, Khronos fought the jester, who, in his own dark agenda, had separated from his allies. Khronos confronted him inside the clock tower that served as training grounds for the Mystical Knights, where the jester was about to rob a magical amulet that their mentor Sir Astor had stored away for his private studies with his sixth and secret student, Queen Callista. As a result of the so-called First Mystical Battle of Megalith that followed, Khronos was severely injured. He woke up a moon later, the same on the outside but forever changed on the inside.

That's when everything took a turn for the worse. In his unhinged state of mind, the secret love Khronos had always hedged for his queen festered until it held sway over him completely. Using a forbidden book of spells he had found, the Tome of Time, he created receptacles for his magic. First, he used the jester in order to create MadKat, a magic-wielding raving lunatic bent on revenge against the new Royal Jester, the knight that imprisoned him and his King and Queen. It is my guess that Khronos intended for MadKat to be a mere pawn, someone who would rid him of the King and whose death by his hand afterwards wouldn't raise too many questions. MadKat, however, threatened to assassinate Queen Callista first, leaving Khronos no other choice but to stop him, and so the Second Mystical Battle of Megalith ensued. It was there that Khronos lost his eye to the hilt of his own sword but with the help of the Tome of Time, he finally managed to lock MadKat inside a magical prison, the fateful kat-in-a-box Lenny Ringtail stumbled across centuries later.

The Tome of Time was then withdrawn from Khronos but it was already too late. The book had poisoned his mind so much he regarded everyone as a traitor and an enemy to be killed. And so began the Third Mystical Battle of Megalith, the most fratricidal battle of them all, for Khronos, who now had adopted the name of PastMaster, using only his magical prowess, killed all who interposed in his path, including his comrades, his master and his king.

It was then that Queen Callista revealed herself as a sorceress, chanted her most powerful spell and turned the gray-furred former body of the PastMaster into the dwarfish red skeleton we, in Megakat City, unfortunately came to know so well. Buried in the common's graveyard inside a trunk, as was customary to traitors to lord and land, the PastMaster was awakened eight hundred years later to resume his reign of terror, as we all know...

Returning to the past time and time again, he managed to conjure up a dragon so large that it consumed and killed the better part of Megalith City and its citizens. Queen Callista then wielded a powerful spell that destroyed the rest of the city, as well as the PastMaster's dragon. The History compendiums say that Queen Callista died there and then but now I know otherwise. Queen Callista survived the Holocaust of Megalith, effectively deceiving the PastMaster and allowing her and her people to continue their lives until Megalith City turned into Megakat City.

All this is history, but, amazingly, it is only the beginning and surely not the end of it...

She opened her eyes and looked at the ancient journal she'd acquired from Katz Antiques and to the scrolls inside that wooden box. Amazing... Only months ago she took what the compendiums told her for granted. It had been an amazing journey...

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"Gonna beat you to it!" - Tristan shouted as he heaved his torso in order to deliver another blow to the wall with the pickaxe.

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" - Gonzales replied as shards of stone flew from the point of contact with the sharp edge of his shovel.

"Come on, guys, this isn't a race!" - Dr. Sinian reproached her PhD students - "Besides, you might miss something if you dig too fast."

"Toms..." - Angela, a brunette she-kat, Abby's junior assistant for the present semester, intervened - "Can't live with them, can't live without them..."

Abby smiled. She was working the crowbar around the cracks in the wall of the ancient abbey. When the eco-sounders had revealed a hollow space behind the wall, her curiosity instantly peaked. The dwelling wasn't at all strange to her. After all, she was all too well accustomed to the Dark Ages' architectural style. What was odd was the location itself. She wouldn't expect to find such a fine specimen of Megalith City's architecture so far away from the fallen city's resting place. Namely, an ocean away, in another continent!

When one of Abby's now graduated students had sent her a photograph of this abbey, sitting alone with only two or three more small dwellings in the middle of some woods, completely covered by the vegetation, hidden from view for centuries, she instantly recognized the architectural style of the building.

She was thrilled to find yet more remnants of that bygone civilization that fathered modern-day Megakat City but when she learnt those ruins sit in another continent, she was completely fascinated. She just *had* to drop everything and go check it out for herself. However, it wasn't until two months later that she had made all the arrangements for her trip.

She, her students and her assistant had just arrived the day before. She had barely slept at all with all the excitement of the coming morning. Still, she was the very first to get up. They had been exploring the recesses of the abbey for just five hours and already they had discovered a hidden niche, barred with a solid wall of stone bricks. The same wall they were now trying to bring down.

The same wall Tristan and Gonzales were hammering on like there was no tomorrow. This healthy rivalry that existed among them was nothing more than the purest form of friendship. The two toms had known each other since elementary school and they were as close as any real brothers could be. The fact that both toms came from rather underprivileged families forced them to shoulder their education since their teenager years solely on their own. That and a series of other events brought these two young toms closer than any two brothers. So through competition they actually reinforced their bonds of friendship.

"Gonna beat you to it!"

"No way in heeeeee..." - the last word Gonzales spoke was prolonged as his shovel penetrated through the age-old wall, making him lose his balance and fall head-first into the hollow behind the now ruined stone brick wall. Tristan dropped is pickaxe and readily bent down to help his falling friend but to no avail. Both toms fell in a heap as the stone bricks hammered down on the ground all around them.

"Are you two okay?" - Dr. Sinian asked, concerned. The two youngsters, however, were laughing their tails off.

"Looks like you were wrong this time, pal."

"Not that it happens very often..."

"Just often enough!"

"Okay, you guys can kiss and make better later." - Angela intervened as she stepped through the middle of them. She raised her lantern in an attempt to illuminate the dark niche. Her next words took the smile off of the toms' faces - "It's empty."

"Aw, man! All this work for an empty hole? No fair!"

"Totally no fair!"

Dr. Sinian stepped inside the hollow and she too swept the place across with the strong halogen beam spouting from her hand lantern. Almost immediately, she spotted two torches hanging on opposite walls.

"Can I borrow your lighter, Tristan? Thanks."

Moments later, the niche was illuminated by the flickering orange glow of both torches. As her eyes adapted, she could discern more of the architecture of that hidden place.

"You know, it's amazing how spiders always find these places before everyone else..." - Gonzales said as he swept aside a large cobweb.

"As long as they don't decide I'm their next meal, they're just fine by me..." - said Angela, her penetrating eyes trying to discern something unusual.

Dr. Sinian examined the bricks on the walls. They were just the same as the bricks Gonzales and Tristan hammered down just minutes ago to gain access to this hollow space. It seemed that, other than the torches, there was nothing else inside the room.

"What a bummer..."

"Bummer, dude..."

"Would you two shut up, please? I can't even hear myself thinking!" - Angela cut the two students up, irritation and frustration filling her voice. She started to massage her right temple as she turned to Dr. Sinian - "What do you make of all this, Dr. Sinian? Is it really empty like it seems? I have to say that nothing really catches my eye, but ..."

"But..."

"But why build a hidden niche, torch-holders and all and have nothing in it?"

"Maybe it was ransacked many years ago." - Tristan proposed.

"Maybe it was an error in the plans." - was Gonzales idea.

"Angela?" - Dr. Sinian gave the ground to her assistant as she herself focused on the walls once again.

"First of all: Megalith's architects *didn't* make mistakes! Each and every plan was designed not by one but by a group of architects that would then submit the plan to another group comprised of what we would now call geologists, engineers, biologists... who would do something like an environmental impact study of the plan, as well as a study of its stability and functions. Megalith's architects were far more advanced than any others at their time. It's a shame we don't follow their standards anymore..."

Dr. Sinian smiled at this remark. She'd heard many discussions of friends that were environmental engineers and geologists about that topic, so she was fairly acquainted with that. Apparently, Angela shared the same concerns. The archaeologist focused her attention on a particular spot of the wall to the right of the entrance they've made. She picked up her compass and checked it.

"Second: if this place was ransacked, then why was the wall rebuilt, moreover so sturdily? It doesn't make sense."

"Good points, both of them!" - Dr. Sinian said as she straightened herself up - "But, like to us she-kats, there's more to this chamber than meets the eye. And I think I figured it out..."

The three kats huddled closer to her, already engrossed. She turned to the wall, touching it with her palm.

"This wall faces south, the prime alignment direction to which Megalith's architects built their greatest works, like the Castle, the Cathedral and the Throne Room. According to the texts our ancestors left, the north direction has ever been appointed as a direction of bad omen, probably because it was the direction the frozen wind blew when winter came."

"It is also the direction of Tor Bloodhelm... Legend has it that a terrible battle ensued there. A traitor was slain at the cost of the blood of a hundred knights. Hence the dreadful name of that hill..."

Dr. Sinian looked irritated at Gonzales.

"Let's not confuse legend with history, shall we? There are no evidences of such battle at Tor Bloodhelm. Chances are the people just named it after a trick of the light on sunset or the autumnal foliage... Anyway..." - she focused on the wall again - "The fact that this wall faces south would be meaningless if not for the slightly different color of the mortar that binds the bricks together. That must mean there is a hidden niche inside this hidden niche that was opened and closed more than once. Besides that..." - she pointed to a specific brick in the wall, which heralded a symbol as small as a ladybug - "... this brick presents the royal crest of Megalith."

"She's good..."

"The best..."

"The Royal Seal! That means..."

"Let's open it!" - said Dr. Sinian as she produced a pocketknife and started to scratch the mortar around the branded brick - "Help me out! Remove all the different color mortar but do *not* damage the bricks!"

After several minutes of scraping, several bricks were already lying on the ground, arranged in the exact same way as they had been in the wall, which now presented a gaping hole. Dr. Sinian pointed her light towards the opening.

"There are too many cobwebs... I can't see clearly... Give me something to wipe them out."

Dr. Sinian wiped the cobwebs almost feverishly. The thrill of the hunt always made her nervous. She knew she had to calm down for there was always the possibility of setting off a trap, however unlikely it was when dealing with Megalith City's architecture. Finally, something glinted at the end of the hole.

"There! I saw something!" - Gonzales said as he stuck out his hand and reached out towards the object.

"STOP!" - Dr. Sinian exclaimed - "You might destroy it! Go get the steel sheet! Better safe than sorry..."

"But Doc!..."

"Procedures! Remember the procedures! They're not just for the item's protection but for your own safety as well! Now go!"

The scant minutes Gonzales took seemed like hours to Abby. She quickly picked the thin metallic sheet the young tom had brought and, adjusting it to the hole's floor, she started to push it in. When she reached the base of the object, she forced the sheet down so it would go under it. She made it at her second try. She pushed in some more until she found more resistance. She reasoned that the sheet must have hit the back wall.

"Time to reel in our prize, people."

Patiently, agonizingly slowly, she dragged the object perched atop the thin metallic sheet through the small tunnel carved in the rock wall. Moments later, a small but sturdy chest came into view. Gonzales and Tristan proceeded to support the sheet of steel and lower it ever so slowly to the ground.

"It's... It's..." - Tristan stuttered, spellbound.

"... a dust-covered old box!" - Gonzales finished in an equally bewildered tone.

Angela just shook her head - "I honestly can't even begin to reason how you could have ever been able to finish college..."

"It must date back to that short period of time known as the Post-Golden Age of Megalith City, some seven hundred and fifty years ago." - Tristan proposed, entranced.

"Judging by the markings on the lid and the intricate footing, this must have been done by the Royal Master Carpenter himself."

"That and the intricacy of the rose pair carved on the top."

"The keyhole's work is definitely the one of the Royal Chief-Jeweler! And look! It forms the Queen's Signet! This means..."

"Queen Callista..." - Dr. Sinian whispered - "The noblest and most mysterious of Megalith City's queens!"

"Let's just quit the 'oh-ah' and open it already! Who's got the acid?" - Angela queried.

"Here." - Tristan stopped - "Dr. Sinian, would you do the honors? We know you hold Queen Callista in high regard."

"Thank you, people..."

Carefully, slowly, Dr. Sinian pressed the plunger of the large glass syringe. The acid quickly corroded the age-old seal, fizzing and smoking its way into the box's lid, finally eating through the locks. They all held their breath when they heard the familiar sucking sound of air rushing into a closed space. The lid had just opened up less than a millimeter, seemingly for the first time in several hundred years.

"The moment of truth, lady and gentlekats..." - Dr. Sinian commented under her breath as she gently forced the hinges. Her hands were quivering slightly, as if the lid was made of lead instead of wood.

"Come on, Dr. Sinian, open it up already!" - they all looked askew to Tristan, who just shrugged - "The suspense is killing me!"

"Fine, then. You just ruined the moment." - the senior scientist stated as she flung the lid wide open, which caused everyone to gasp in panic. However, to their dismay, the interior was completely and utterly...

"Empty!" - Gonzales sputtered - "I can't believe it!"

"So it seems..."

"After all this suspense! Come on, that's completely anticlimactic!"

"These markings on the bottom... Dr. Sinian, don't they suggest..."

"Nothing! This is nothing but an ordinary safe designed to protect the Queen's jewelry. Nothing more, nothing less."

Dr. Sinian quickly closed the wooden vault and handed it over to Tristan.

"Tag and prepare it for transport back to Megakat City."

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s--------

Dr. Sinian sat with her laptop perched over her crossed legs. The glowing screen was reflected from her glasses as she wrote.

"Log entry: 12th June

"Holy Kats, my hands are still shaking... Today, my crew and I found an artifact that puzzled me and, simultaneously, shocked me beyond words. It puzzled me because of the location of the finding: we're a whole ocean away from the resting site of ancient Megalith City, in the ruins my former student discovered. The place, in itself, is nothing out of the ordinary, basic Megalith City architecture. I've seen better, I must confess...

"It was the artifact, together with the remoteness of this place that made this trip worthwhile... We found a wooden vault that bore the royal crest of Queen Callista. I was baffled to find such a thing so far away from Megalith City. My crew was also befuddled by this finding but I'm sure their attention would soon fall upon the slight detail that had caught my eye and demanded my quick action."

The brunette she-kat surreptitiously looked over the edge of the laptop's screen, towards Tristan, Gonzales and Angela, who stood a few feet away, cataloguing the other finds of the day and working on their field reports by the camp fire. She lowered her eyes to the flat glowing screen once more.

"I don't know if the chest is but an elaborate forgery but I'm just dying to get my hands on it and lift that trapdoor in the bottom... I know what it is; I've seen other wooden vaults like that, with similar systems of deception... Disguised as a simple safe for small jewelry, often Megalith's noblesse hid, in a false bottom specifically designed and built into those vaults, written documents that would only be accessed by someone who knew how to lift that little trapdoor, usually the owner... Or the maker!

"Hiding in plain sight has ever been one of the fortes of Megalith's nobles... The fact we just dug up such a fine specimen of that Megalithian tradition so far away from the city's resting place is something I do not yet understand... But I plan to as soon as I return to Megakat City!"

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That was four months ago. Now, in the early dawn's twilight of the day on which Dr. Sinian sat at the table of her office studying the ancient documents she had found, two toms drove an armored truck across the mountainous regions northeast of Megakat City. Thunder rolled across the pitch-black storm clouds as its natural predecessor had crossed the leaden skies just a second before, immersing the rugged shapes of Megakat Mountains in a blinding white electric light.

"Holy Kats, that was a close one!" - Bernard, a pudgy tom in his late forties, recoiled as his ears glued to the sides of his head upon hearing the roar of the thunder. His colleague, Harris, a tough-looking black-pelted short tom in his late thirties, risked a glance at Bernard and showed one of his traditional grins, which consisted in showing his right golden canine.

"Afraid of the thunder still, Bern?"

"Just drive, okay? By all rights, I should be with Bess in some hot lovemaking by now..."

"As if Bess and you had had any sex in the recent years..."

"If you must know, we've been at it day in, day out!"

"More like year in, year out, I'd venture."

"Can we change the subject, please?"

"Yeah, whatever..."

"Pay attention to the road, will you? It's raining really hard now" - Bernard said before a blinding flash and a deafening boom made both toms tense their muscles.

"Whoa! Now *that* was a really close one!" - Harris said with his ears still flattened against his head.

"And it's not over yet! I can still hear it rolling..."

And those were the very last words Bernard spoke before an avalanche of rocks and debris hammered on the side of the truck, turning it around and its occupants together with it. However, the final audible sound coming from Bernard was that of his cervical vertebrae popping when his neck was twisted at an impossible angle.

Harris was thrown headfirst against the bulletproof glass of the driver's window, smearing it in red. Dazed from both shocks, the surprise rock avalanche and the blow to his head, Harris had to struggle to release himself of the vice-like grip of the seatbelt, only to be rewarded with more pain when he suddenly fell half a foot over his bruised left arm. After a muffled curse, Harris regained enough composure to claw his way up towards the passenger's door, oblivious of the mass that lay ahead still strapped to the seat thanks to the seatbelt. The blood oozing from the gash in his forehead partially blinded the vision from his left eye and it was only when he felt his thumb dig deeply into something at the same time hard and squishy that he remembered that his friend was still in the truck with him.

"Bern?" - he called out, twice. Only silence met him back.

Harris couldn't even rely on the flashes of lightning to provide some light to the darkened cabin since the only thing separating him from a crushing death was the shaken windshield, already cracking at an alarming rate from the weight of the rocks and dirt piled against it.

As the ominous cracking intensified by the moment, so did Harris' desperation. So much so that he soon forgot about his friend, starting to claw his way out with increasing fierceness, not really caring whether or not he'd hurt Bern. Just the atavistic horror of being buried alive was enough to drive him to the edge of insanity.

A couple of yards, maybe even less than that, were all that separated Harris from freedom. Yet, those scant, measly feet were the hardest climb of his life. Despite that, despite being bathed in sweat and blood, despite having his fingers slippery from some unknown substance coming from Bern's face and his own blood and despite being partially blind from his left eye, he made it nevertheless. He tried the doorknob but his fingers slipped off and he failed to open the door. It was only on his third try that his hand cupped the piece of steel and tugged at it.

He heard the familiar noise of the door unlatching but it did not open. As he stood with the tip of his shoes on the door of the driver's side, he stretched out but could not muster enough force to beat the spring that held the door just unlatched but otherwise closed.

Feeling with his knees, he tried to find the handle of the handbrake. Sweating and hurting, he managed to place his knee over the handbrake and lunged himself at the door, hitting it with his shoulder with all the strength his battered body could muster. To his dismay, the door barely moved at all.

His mind almost blocked as he finished processing what had just happened. After a few minutes of hyperventilation and a paralyzing certainty that he'd die there with his friend, his mind shifted suddenly to its primal gear. He started clawing out once again, trying to place both feet over the handbrake. When he finally managed that feat, he rested his back against the door and, using his legs as levers, he forced the door up. It was with a primal growl of terror that he finally found the strength to push open the door, dislodging the few rocks that held it in place.

Cold rain hammering down in sheets greeted the beaten tom as he greedily sucked in the cold night air. He looked around to get his bearings and, in doing so, he noticed he wasn't alone. There was a figure, smudged by the heavy rain but darkened by the lightning cracking behind it that was climbing down the rubble towards the turned-over truck.

Feeling relieved beyond words, Harris waved his arms in the air and shouted, trying to get the stranger's attention. He watched as the figure stopped briefly, as if startled, and then resumed its descent from the top of the hill down towards him. If Harris' mind hadn't just been through such an ordeal, he'd have wondered what someone was doing alone in those mountains on a night like that, even more so when that someone was climbing *down* the hill instead of *up* the pile of debris left by the avalanche. As this wasn't the case, Harris couldn't really grasp just why the stranger picked up a heavy coconut-sized stone from among the rubble shortly before he reached him. It was only when the stranger lifted his arm and brought down the stone in a sideward arc with full force that his intentions became clear to him, and by then it was too late already to stop his attacker from dashing his skull in.

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All his calculations had turned out correct; his information, solid. It had been worth the bribes and the favors he'd had to collect for this job. Comedian, maybe... But never underestimate a trickster with a good network of connections.

As Lenny Ringtail searched the bleeding remains of the driver, he couldn't say his mind was even there, paying attention to what he was doing. Truth be told, it wasn't very far either! All he could think was about the contents of that armored truck.

"Bingo!" - he breathed out.

With his secondary goal in his hands, he headed for the back of truck, which, thanks to the calculations his friend, a pyrotechnician, had made for him, was virtually free of rock debris. He inserted the key he'd just stolen into the lock, turned it and had to jump away to avoid being hit by the falling door.

He took a deep breath to regain his composure. A small fright, that was all it had been, although a broken leg in a place and a time like that would have foiled all his plans. He focused on the opened up treasure chest that was the armored truck. It was time to retrieve his primary goal, his *prize*.

Scanning the interior with the small flashlight, he almost immediately found it: a small cubic object, fallen on the side of the truck, now serving as its floor. It was just an inexpensive steel vault. He grinned: one well aimed shot with piercing rounds and it would spring open much in the same way its contents usually did. Of course, the adrenalin now flooding his veins made him miss the first three shots but the forth finally hit payday. The lock mechanism came in pieces and the door sprung open exposing the red and beige but otherwise uncharacteristic box.

He picked it up in his hands and turned it, observing it. His breath came in a series of short, rapid gasps as he felt the box, as though waves of sexual pleasure were coursing through his body. He finally located the button that would make the handle slide out. As he rolled the handle, slowly coiling the spring inside to a point where it would do nothing else but uncoil violently and suddenly, his thrill grew and his muscles tensed. And when the time came for the puppet inside to come rushing out of the box, he greeted it first with a startled jump. Leveling eyes with it and bearing a grin to match the sneer of the puppet, Ringtail finally greeted it properly.

"Hello, handsome!"

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The loud clang of steel hitting steel muffled the forced exhalation of relief as Jake placed the barbell back in its holder. He wiped the beads of perspiration off his forehead with his forearm as he straightened up and got off the flat bench.

"And *that's* how you perform fifty bench presses with a hundred-and-fifty-pound weight." - he cockishly said. His arms, however, told a completely different story: they seemed as though they were made of jelly...

"Pretty impressive..." - stated Chance matter-of-factly, removing the fifty-pound weight from the barbell and replacing it with another hundred-pound weight - "I'll see your hundred-and-fifty and raise you fifty."

As Chance lay down on the flat bench and adjusted himself, Jake slowly felt a pit opening under his stomach. When he watched the burly tom start his series seemingly effortlessly, he just turned around, tossing his towel over his shoulder. He knew he'd reached his limit, there was no way he could endure another fifty bench presses with that kind of load. There was simply no point in sitting there, watching Chance make short work of his attempt to beat the brawny tom at bench pressing.

"Really, Jake..." - he thought to himself as he headed out of their weight room - "...What were you thinking when you wagered a whole month of housecleaning in this kind of bet? He *is* stronger than you!"

Jake looked back at Chance when he reached the door. The tabby was grunting out the numbers as he almost effortlessly did bench press after bench press. He smiled. No wonder Chance gave bone-breaking bear hugs.

"I'm hitting the shower, bud!"

"What?" - Chance grunted out, surprised - "Don't you wanna see me winning?"

"Not really, I..."

Suddenly, the blaring sound of the alarm filled the room.

"Aw, *crud*! I'm all sweaty! I *need* a shower!" - Jake complained as he threw away the towel and bolted out of the weight room. He still heard the clang of the barbell being quickly placed up on its holder before Chance was fast on Jake's heels.

"Yes, Miss Briggs?" - the slim kat greeted after smacking the back of his fist against the large intercom button. There was a prolonged silence on the other side - "Miss Briggs?"

"Metallikats, guys. This time they've gone too far, even for them..." - Callie's voice sounded disgusted even from the other side of the com-link - "They've hijacked a school bus and are holding the kittens hostage for ransom. The Enforcers can't get near the school bus 'cause they'll blast anything that gets within a ten-yard radius."

"Where are they keeping the bus?" - Chance queried. Again, Callie didn't respond at once, as if she was distracted somehow - "Miss Briggs?"

"They're driving the bus through downtown and destroying everything that comes in their way. They're threatening to kill the kittens if the bus ever comes to a stop before their demands are met." - now Jake and Chance stared at each other in silence - "Guys?"

"What do those bastards want?" - Jake asked, a faint growl growing in the back of his throat.

"Not much. Just the key to the City and every penny and quarter there is in Megakat Mint."

"We're on to it, Miss Briggs!" - Chance stated before he cut the transmission. He looked back at Jake. He could see the slim kat was appalled with all that. - "Let's go, Jake."

"Kittens... Those bastards are gonna pay..."

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s--------

The Deputy Mayor put the triangular communication device back into her purse, but she did so mechanically. What had distracted her in her talks with Razor and T-Bone was still occupying her mind. Not even the Metallikats' attack on innocent kittens, the latest nadir of mindless criminal violence in her city, could stop her gaze from repeatedly wandering back to the piece of paper atop her desk. She looked intently at the beautiful handwriting of those eight lines of text as they formed a poem she couldn't understand but she knew had to have some meaning. In fact, her feeling went deeper than that: she felt like she knew the owner of such handwriting but couldn't quite place where or *when* had she seen it for the last time. This feeling filled her with unease.

She reclined in her executive chair and closed her eyes. She could have let the SWAT Kats know of the poem but for what reason? Even *she* couldn't understand why she felt so uneasy... After all, nobody knew! Nobody *could* know! Nobody *alive* anyway...

Still, she needed someone to talk about this... She picked up her cell phone and dialed. Staring out the window of her office, towards the gray veil that blanketed Megakat City in a drowsy drizzle, she waited impatiently for the familiar voice but when it came, she realized she was just hearing the taped message of Dr. Sinian's answering machine. Frustrated, she tried reaching her at her workplace. Her line at the Megakat Natural History Museum was busy, so she typed in the number of the museum's reception.

"This is Deputy Mayor Callie Briggs. I must speak with Dr. Sinian urgently." - she said the instant her call got through.

"One moment, please." - the receptionist said and put Callie on hold as he tried to get hold of the curator. Classical music flooded the line in his absence, tinny, soulless. The wait seemed to last an eternity for the distressed she-kat.

Then, finally, the voice of the receptionist was back. But his news were bad - "I'm sorry, Deputy Mayor. Dr. Sinian gave explicit and strict orders that she wasn't to be disturbed by anyone. I believe it has something to do with her last expedition. I think they found something valuable and the doctor is analyzing it thoroughly."

"Really?" - she wondered. She bit her lower lip, pondering on her next move. She knew how obstinate Abby could be with her findings and she didn't really have an ironclad reason for wanting to disturb her. Just a poem scribbled in a piece of paper...

"Is there anything I can help you with, Deputy Mayor?" - the receptionist asked, solicitous, yanking Callie off her train of thought.

"No, thanks! I'm sure it can wait! Thank you, once again!"

She ended the connection and picked herself from the chair. Despite what she had said, she didn't think she could wait that long. Her vague fear had to be alleviated somehow. She considered what her next action should be. She opened her petite leather-covered agenda and roamed through her contacts. As she expected, she had someone who could help shed some light on the matter...

She folded the sheet of paper in four and sank it in the depths of her purse before she went out of her office and drove to Megakat University.

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s--------

Troubled, Dr. Sinian looked out of the window of her Museum office. On the table beside her stood the wooden vault she and her students had found in those ruins half a world away, and next to it lay the scrolls she retrieved from its false bottom. She had checked, double-checked, triple-checked and then double-checked them again just to be sure of what those writs were saying to her. There was no mistake. The story those manuscripts told would change the world as Katkind knew it. They had changed *her* world, that was for sure.

She closed her eyes and sighed. In her lifetime, she'd stood against ghost pilots, giant mummies, pre-historic beasts and eight-hundred year old sorcerers but never *ever* could she have even dreamed of the shocking revelations brought upon her by those ancient scrolls.

A polite cough in her back shook her out of her reverie. She turned around to the receptionist, not quite managing to smooth over the lines of indecision that marred her beautiful face.

"I told the Deputy Mayor you were unavailable, just as you wished. She still didn't tell me why she wanted to speak to you, Dr. Sinian, but she said it could wait."

"Thank you, Carl." - Dr Sinian said, and the tomkat returned to his place at the reception.

Abby gazed out the window again. She realized that, outside, all was gray, all was grim. As was the decision she had to make... She could either stay quiet, letting the best opportunity to carve her name in the History compendiums slip her by or she could publish a scientific article on her findings and turn one of her closest friends into an abomination, an outcast, a test subject.

Duty or desire: which would be the right choice?

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"E-excuse me, m-miss..."

"WHAT?" - Molly snapped back at the frightened young tom, who just coiled back in fear.

"I-I n-need to go..."

Molly's optics burned in bright red as she leveled her chromium-plated face to the kitten's.

"Do I look like your mother?"

"N-no..."

"Then SHUT UP AND BE QUIET!" - she screamed as she tore the empty seat from the bus' floor and threw it against the closed window, smashing it. The seat crashed on a parked car on the other side of the avenue, setting off the vehicle's airbags and alarm - "And that goes double for the rest of you too!"

"What are you going to do with the kittens? I *demand* that you leave this bus *immediately*!"

"Oooohh, mister school-bus driver, sir..." - Mac said mellifluously - "You should be more concerned about what we're going to do to you..."

And the last thing the driver saw was Mac's chromium-plated fist rushing to hit his snout... And turn his face into a bloody pulp... Mac then opened the front doors and tossed the corpse out onto the wet street. As he occupied the now vacant driver's seat, two bumps rocked the frame of the vehicle.

"Attention, students. This is your driver speaking." - Mac stated through the speakers - "As of now, school's out!"

"Yeah, it's time for Camp Metallikat now! And you'd better behave if you want to see your mommas again!" - Molly threatened before both robots laughed at their wit.

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"We need a plan, buddy..." - Razor stated as the Turbokat flew high over downtown, the droplets of the light rain mingling with the clouds - "This is a hostage situation and the hijackers aren't feline... There's no telling what those two could do."

"I know..."

Razor could hear the low growl of disgust stressing the tabby's words. He too was appalled with the situation at hand. Those were kittens down there! First-graders! They had no idea what evil was and now they had been suddenly swept into a maelstrom of violence and malice. T-Bone had to agree with Razor... Those bastards were *so* gonna pay for this...

"So, what do you suggest, sureshot?" - no answer came from behind. He peered back and saw Razor scrutinizing something on his screen. Then he heard a sigh.

"I've got an idea... But you're not gonna like it..."

"Why?

"It's extremely risky... The timing *must* be flawless... And I'll be relying on your shooting skills to save my life..."

T-Bone just gulped before he headed for a thicker cloud bank.

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s--------

"C'mon, get outta my way!" - Mac said through the seesaw movement of the windshield wipers as the bus crashed against the car directly in front of it, sending it swerving out of control - "Like I always say, if you can't drive, stay outta the road!"

"I wonder when that punk Feral will try to stop us" - Molly said as she polished her hand cannon.

"He knows better than to try somethin' stupid like that. We've made our point with the bus driver. He knows who's in charge here."

"Yeah, you're right but don't let it go to your head. Hey! What about the SWAT Kats?"

"What about them?"

"Duh, they don't answer to Feral, knucklehead! You'd expect they'd be here already! Hah! Guess those two are not like advertised..." - she chuckled before she looked out the window. They were coming to an intersection. In addition to the troubles that morning's light rain was causing to the traffic, Molly saw as the cars screeched to a halt to let the speeding bus come through.

It was only on a second glance that she saw something that shouldn't be there. She saw a plane flying so low it was almost touching the cars driving in the street. Milliseconds later, she turned to warn her husband of the jet fighter but it was already too late. A jolting impact forced her to grab one of the poles to prevent her from being thrown down to the floor.

The bus swerved ninety degrees and spun out of control along the other avenue, hitting vehicle after vehicle until it finally came to a halt a whole block away, in the middle of the next intersection.

Molly got back up and quickly asserted her situation. The kittens were all there and although they were now terrified beyond words they were otherwise unharmed.

Good, she still had her hostages.

Then she looked for her husband but all she could find was a gaping hole on the driver's window, from which the drizzly rain poured in and soaked the driver's seat. No one stood at the steering wheel. She looked left to right in order to locate Mac but all she could find was a set of blasted front doors. Whatever got Mac must have entered from the driver's window and left by the front doors. She looked back at the scared sobbing kittens and fired a few shots that cut through the roof of the bus as though it was made of butter and allowing even more moisture inside the bus.

"SHUT UP AND BE QUIET!"

"Temper, temper, Molly! That's not the way to deal with kittens!" - someone said from behind.

"Hah. I should have known you clowns wouldn't stay put for long..."

Molly turned around suddenly and fired a volley of laser fire over Razor that, instead, hit the windshield, shattering it. The slim SWAT Kat had ducked and barely had had time to extend the glovatrix's shield before Molly corrected her aim and retargeted Razor.

With the shield deployed, Razor had little to fear from Molly's blasts but something happened that made his stomach sink to his feet. Some of the blasts ricocheted back at the kittens and barely missed them. Razor immediately realized his strategy had failed.

"MOLLY, STOP! I SURRENDER!" - Razor bellowed as he ventured peeking at Molly.

"Then disable your shield and throw away your weapons!" - she demanded, terms to which Razor had no other choice but to obey. He rolled the shield back in and took off the glovatrix.

"Put it down and kick it towards me. Gently!" - she pointed her blaster towards the kittens - "Or the Holy Kats' Halls will be a little crowded today."

Razor did as she ordered. Molly grinned as she trained the cannon on the SWAT Kat again. She bent down to grab the glovatrix.

"This is some incredible piece of weaponry you got here, SWAT Kat, I'll give you that." - she put the glovatrix on - "Why don't I just finish you off using your own weapon? Don't you think it's a fitting end for you?"

Molly accessed the electronics of the glovatrix in order to turn it on but as soon as she did it, a massive electric discharge ravaged throughout her body, severing a number of servos and rendering her momentarily disoriented.

"NOW!" - Razor screamed to the com-link as he became one with the floor. When Molly regained enough of her composure, she saw the slick black jet rushing along the avenue, again almost touching the vehicles. She saw something shooting from beneath the jet, heading straight towards her. And that was the last Molly saw before her system crashed due to an electrical overload.

Razor ran to the blown out back door to see Molly wrapped in the metallic web of a Spider-Chain Missile. The momentum of the rocket had been enough to make her crash through the back door of the bus. Only then did the three parts of the missile split up and wrap around her frame, letting out a powerful electric shock. He turned to the frightened kittens.

"It's all over now. You're safe." - he said in the most soothing tone his adrenaline-soaked voice could muster. Slowly, frightened beyond words, the kittens started to get off the seats and to approach Razor - "It's okay! It's over now! See? We defeated them! They won't try to hurt you again!"

The kittens finally ran to Razor, tears hanging in the corners of their eyes, some crying openly, and huddled around their hero. He tried to sooth them and slowly they all got off the bus. He turned his head towards the sound of sirens approaching. The Enforcers were finally arriving at the scene. Good. They'd get the kittens home safely. He was still getting the kittens off the ruined school bus when a tremendous screeching noise reached his ears.

"Keep moving! Don't stop. For nothing, you hear me?"

The SWAT Kat jumped on top of the bus and tried to locate the source of the ever increasing sound. The drizzle had lifted a bit but, in its stead, a pale veil of mist lingered on. Then he saw it. He had to clean the blinding droplets of water that slowly dripped from his helmet and over his eyes with his sleeve just to be sure that he was actually seeing what he was: on the transversal road, coming straight towards him, there was a tanker truck speeding out of control. Razor widened his eyes in disbelief.

Mac.

Razor was dumbfounded with the violence of this act. It seemed the Metallikats were completely out of control. No sign of decency or felinity. Just plain cold evil. Apparently, Mac was planning to ram the SWAT Kat head on and was demonstrating his old driving motto plainly: if you can't drive, stay out of the road! Cars careened and were veered to either side of the truck as its formidable mass and speed wiped them out of the way and rapidly decreased the span between the two large vehicles. The truck's horn blared, like a trumpet from hell announcing Razor's demise.

He looked down, to the back end of the ruined school bus. The kittens were still leaving the vehicle, helped by the Enforcers, who, by now, had also spotted the incoming threat and hurried the kittens along. Razor, however, daren't leave the bus until all the kittens were out safely.

Jetpack! Cyclotron! Grappling hook! Mini Turbo Blades! Mini Cement-Launchers! All of these ideas passed through Razor's mind as he desperately tried to find a way out of this predicament. But there was nothing Razor could do. He hadn't brought any jetpack to fly away, no Cyclotron to speed away from danger. There was nothing near for the grappling hook to hold on to. Shooting the tires of the truck or covering Mac's face with cement would only make things worse.

The kittens he vowed to protect had just finished stepping out of the bus. Razor thought about running but there simply was no time to evade it without getting injured. There was nothing left to do but die...

"At least the kittens are safe. My work is done."

"RAZOR!" - T-Bone's voice rang through the com-link - "GRAB THE LINE!"

"Of course... T-Bone! Why didn't I think of my *partner* as a solution for this?" - he muttered to himself.

Razor watched the Turbokat fly low and almost out of reflex grabbed the cable dangling from the bomb bay just when the tanker started to hit the side of the bus. The SWAT Kat felt the floor speed away from his feet as the Turbokat yanked him off the bus' rooftop. Mac smashed the tanker against the side of the bus and dragged it several yards until something completely unexpected happened.

The metallic mass crumpled underneath the front fender became so large it stopped the tanker dead in its tracks. However, as the First Law of Movement states, a moving body tends to remain in motion. The liquid mass inside the tank kept moving at the same speed although the truck had stopped completely. The result: the tank flipped over the truck's cabin, rising thirty feet into the air, ripping off the locks that kept it trailed to the truck and falling rear side first into the asphalt. The tank teetered for about half a second before it came crashing down on its side on the street, ripping its hull and spewing its contents.

Then, the Third Law of Movement came into action: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. The friction of the metal walls of the tank against the rough asphalt produced a tiny little spark that completed the so-called "fire triangle": carburant, fuel and ignition source.

Hell broke loose.

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T-Bone sat silent in the cockpit, waiting for Razor to say something. Anything. While their interference had saved the kittens, it was more than likely that the Metallikats' rampage had claimed some casualties. The detonation of the tanker truck had been tremendous...

At last he heard Razor sigh - "This is not the result I was hoping for this mission..." - he lowered his head and T-Bone wished they weren't in the TurboKat, that he could put his arm around his friend's shoulders as a sign of support.

"We did what we could. It was a tricky situation, we both know that. Hostage situations usually are."

"I know all that. It just pains me to have innocent bystanders injured... or killed..."

"Hey, don't take this personally, you hear? It wasn't your fault!"

"I'm not saying it was! I *know* it wasn't my fault. *The Metallikats* did it. I'm fully aware of that... It's just... Well, I've never seen them so vicious before..."

"You're right. I know they used to be mob bosses but this surpasses even that... It's like they were out of control..."

Before both toms could ponder the thought further, a frenzied radio transmission on the Enforcers band caught their attention.

It seemed Mac and Molly Mange had only been the first course of mayhem on the menu for the day...

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s--------

"Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Stan." - Callie said as she stepped inside the small office of Stanley Whiterspoon, linguist and emeritus professor at the Faculty of English Studies at Megakat University.

"Please, it's an honor to have the visit of the Deputy Mayor!" - Stanley said as he took a pile of books from the chair and placed it on the ground - "As you can see my office can barely contain myself, let alone other people. Do be seated Callie! So, to what do I owe this honor?"

"Well, Stan, I wish I could say I'm here to catch up on the old days..."

"Ahh, always to the point, my dear Callie..."

"I'm sorry. We should go out one of these days..." - she opened her purse and fished out the folded sheet of paper - "There's something I'd like to show you."

Stanley adjusted his specs and eyed carefully the piece of paper Callie handed to him. He smiled after he read the poem, taking off his glasses in a slow, affected manner.

"An admirer, perhaps? Don't bother to answer, I know it's not. I, at least, wouldn't want to have this kind of an admirer..."

Now Callie looked concerned - "Why? What do you make of it?"

"Let me read it out loud." - Stanley cleared his throat before he declaimed the poem.

"Before the Full is done/Rise the one trampled shall./Past sins to atone./Black soul burn in Hell.

Thy Wiccan laughter/Makes thy witchcraft prowess/Thy future cannot alter./Turn thy body humorless."

Again, Callie felt a shiver run down her spine without really understanding why. Then she noticed Stanley waving his head in an appreciative manner.

"Callie, this 'admirer' of yours can make one *lousy* poem, even when he tried a baroque style..."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the word order isn't direct. He does some weird weaving in these eight lines." - he fished a red-tipped pen - "Here, let me show to you. Can I scribble on this paper?" - she assented - "Okay. See this."

Stanley drew two circles, each of them surrounding each stanza.

"This poem is obviously divided into two distinct strophes"

"I got that just as soon as I looked at it, Stan. What else?"

"Let's consider the first strophe. It's quite direct, although he uses an anastrophe in the second verse..." - he underlined the verse in question and showed it to Callie - "...which means the order of the words within the verse is slightly switched."

"Before the Full Moon is done, the trampled one shall rise. Past sins to atone. Black soul burn in Hell" - Callie muttered.

"Ah, so you understood that 'Full' with a capitalized 'F' stood for 'Full Moon'... I wonder what you need me for..." - she nudged him lightly - "So, someone who you trampled shall rise in less than..." - he turned to look at the calendar - "...well, tonight is full moon, so he shall rise today, actually, to make your black soul atone for the sins you committed against him in the past and you'll still burn in Hell for that... Clearly someone doesn't like you..."

"Who could this guy be?"

"Well, you needn't look any further: *I* wrote the poem. *I* will rise from my grammatical grave and *I* will..."

"Stanley, please!"

"Okay, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

"What about the second stanza?"

"The second strophe is far more complicated than the first. Only a set of trained eyes and a quick mind like mine could have deciphered it upon one reading." - Callie rolled her eyes - "You see, here your 'admirer' uses a massive hyperbaton to pass his message..."

Stanley proceeded to number the verses on the second stanza, one to four.

"Not only is the word order switched within each verse but the order of the *verses* themselves is also switched. Like this." - he traced two arcs, one linking the first and the third verses and the other linking the remaining two.

"Your Wiccan laughter can't alter your future. Your witchcraft prowess makes your body turn humorless." - Callie muttered. She pointed to the word "humorless" - "What does it mean?"

"It's quite obvious, I'd say. In the past, it was believed that the feline body was kept alive by what was called the humors. There were four of them, representing the four elements, fire, water, air and earth. Any unbalance of these humors would result in illness and death. There was a fifth humor who ruled over all four of them. Of course, we know now that there's nothing like a humor keeping a kat alive. That was just another one of the plethora of superstitions that spiced the life back in the Dark Ages. No, that word doesn't cause me any kind of surprise. There are *other* words, though, that puzzle me, like the use of 'Wiccan' and 'witchcraft' in his reference to you... Any ideas on this, Callie?"

"How should I know? The kind of power you wield when you're in a position such as mine can sometimes look magical to some people. Perhaps this is just someone who's been ill-favored by some bill we've signed in the past and is now looking to get even. It happened before, with Mac and Molly Mange, when I turned down their parole. I guess it's bound to happen again..."

"If this is the case, you should ask for protection. I'll call the Enforcers right away to escort you..."

"Thanks, Stan but I'm sure there's no reason for that. Whoever sent me this poem clearly wanted to spook me and I just played along. As Deputy Mayor, I can't let these things get to me, or I'd just be a plaything for the scum in this city. I'll be all right, Stan, thanks for caring."

"Are you sure about this? This guy probably went through a lot of trouble to come up with this poem just to scare you. Don't you think this guy means business?"

"I'm sure I'll be fine. Thanks for your time, Stan." - she kissed him in the cheek and retrieved the paper from the desk, folding it in four and stashing it away in the depths of her purse - "You were a sweet. I hope I get to see you soon!"

Callie's cell phone started ringing the very moment she reached the university's main parking lot. She answered the call immediately, something Mayor Manx's habit of calling her at least twice a day had ingrained in her. But even if she had taken the time to think about the caller first, she would have expected it to be Manx, telling her that he had just collected Mr. Young at the airport. Therefore the sound of a female voice at the other end of the line took her by surprise.

"Callie, we need to talk!" - Dr. Sinian's voice had an unusual high pitch, as if slightly strained.

"I'd love to, Abby, but I fear you picked a most unfortunate of times for a chat." - she said. Now that she had faced the horrors of the strange poem together with Stanley Witherspoon, she realized how tightly packed her schedule for the rest of the day was - "I'm just leaving Megakat University, the inauguration of the new wind farm is just a few hours away, and I still have to print out the speech I've written for Mayor Manx and bring it to him. And also..." - she swallowed - "...there is a personal matter I have to see to first. I hope this can wait?"

There was a long pause - "Actually... no, it can't. Can I meet you in your office when you get those documents?"

Callie stopped beside her car, eyeing her watch - "No, that wouldn't work. Why don't you come to my apartment instead? There is something I have to pick up in my room, and I can access the office servers from my desktop and print out the speech at home. I will be there in about ten minutes."

"Okay, I'll meet you there."

"So tell me, what is so urgent that you willingly took a break from studying your latest discoveries?" - Callie asked teasingly while she was fumbling for her keys in her purse - "Abby? Abby?" - she asked when there was no response.

She looked at the blank display and realized that she hadn't switched her phone off all day. The old university building with its thick walls most likely blocked off any satellite signal, and the phone's continual signal search had exhausted its battery so much that her short conversation with Abby had deadened it.

She climbed into her car, gunned the engine, revved it up once and drove off the university's parking lot, wondering what Abby might want from her.

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s--------

A purple flash briefly illuminated the ruins of Megalith City. A moment later, the sound of someone falling to the ground and grunting both in pain and exhaustion was heard. Groaning and quivering as he futilely tried to straighten himself up, the PastMaster ended up sprawling on his back over the wet rocky remains of the clock tower's roof.

It was not physical exhaustion that nailed the PastMaster's bones to the ground. After all, he was but a living bag o' bones! No, the exhaustion washing over the skeletal form was not of physical nature but rather of a magical one. In his last predicament involving the SWAT Kats, they'd destroyed the giant mummies of Katchu Pichu and even found out a way to subdue the big half-demon itself by breaking the head dress that so much time the PastMaster had invested searching for. The destruction of the head dress also brought about the fall of the legendary lost pyramid of Katchu Pichu, ripping open a direct way to the fiery pits of its mystical dungeons, where the PastMaster had remained, enduring torment after torment, trial after trial, labor after labor in his epic journey to leave those infernal catacombs. With just enough time to quickly conjure a time vortex to anywhere, in his weakened state of mind, he ended up going farther back in time than he wished for. He ended up in Megakat State's pre-history, where, again, he had to flee from all the dangers those wild times presented him. Taking refuge in a cave, he finally had enough time to properly calculate the right amount of energy he had to use in order to open a time vortex back to present day Megakat City, which happened just seconds ago.

He finally found the strength to sit there, remembering his ordeal and panting as though he had run for miles. He thought this was odd, since he no longer had any lungs or muscles, nor did he breathe anymore. He reasoned that the panting motion he presented was nothing more than a remnant of a reflex act of his previous life, back when he was still a living tom, Khronos, the Gray Devil of Megalith City.

The dimness of the heavily overcast day soothed him as his mind wandered over the past centuries, remembering the dark events that turned him into what he currently was... He closed his only eye, caressing the black void of his empty left eye socket, remembering how the hilt of his own blade pierced his flesh and ripped his eye off his face. He looked down on his hands, to the reddish bones, with an expressionless gaze. He motioned his hand towards a nearby stone, attempting a spell in order to move it and sighed as his efforts were met with very limited success.

Above him, the clouds shifted and the sun was allowed to shine briefly between wisps of cloud on the golden frame of his watch, making it glint and catching his eye. He unclipped the golden timepiece and stared intensely at it, caressing it ever so gently with the reddish bony remains of his thumb. The sapphire glass of the watch reflected the skeletal face that had replaced his former handsome features.

He remembered that Pyros once told him, between swigs of ale, that several maidens always swooned over him whenever they caught a glimpse of him in practice, comments that enticed a series of remarks on his good looks by Hydor and Eolos and soon ended in the attributes of the outer bailey's wenches. He remembered that his best friend Telluros had stayed silent, drinking his ale as he stared intently at him. It was obvious the brown-furred warrior already suspected he had eyes for only one lady.

Pyros. Hydor. Eolos. Telluros. He hadn't thought about his friends in a long time. Suddenly he missed them wholeheartedly, wishing they'd be there with him today. He wished they were all back at the Hard Hart after a hard day of practice, drinking mead and laughing. If the PastMaster had been able to shed tears, he'd have done so. For the first time in centuries, he longed to be Khronos again. Just Khronos, not over-empowered PastMaster. No Tome of Time, no betrayal, no death... Just the Dark Ages as they were: a violent time but also a pleasant one...

Muttering a spell, the glass face of the watch turned opaque for a moment before an image shown, glimmering eerily with a light of its own.

"Alive, after all..." - he whispered, entranced by the image, his friends forgotten for the moment.

The animated image showed Queen Callista standing proudly over the Royal Manor's balcony in a shiny and beautiful spring morning. A light breeze waved her aureate mane as if it weighed as much as the invisible effluvium. At the same time, a shower of rose petals fell behind her, in the background. He sighed again, longingly.

"I thought the conflagration that consumed the castle had also taken your life... My savage beauty... I never thought you'd go so far as to condemn you and all your people only to evade me... Even though I thought you were dead, I sought you out tirelessly for so long... So many centuries have I searched for you... So many centuries have you eluded me... Constantly avoiding and spurning my love... But now..."

He hoarded back his watch, breaking the viewing spell. He rose to his feet, walking to the edge of the stone ruins that once were the mighty and proud clock tower of Megalith City, training grounds for the Mystical Knights and the tallest structure on all the land of Megalith at its time. His stare turned heavenwards, to the ever-shifting clouds. Once again, the sun shone out briefly between shreds of clouds, bathing him in a weak tint of gold and making his only eye glint.

"I have found you now! Even though I had to escape from the fiery dungeons of Katchu Pichu to where those infernal SWAT Kats threw me after my last defeat, that was easy enough compared to the torment of being apart from you all these centuries... But now I have another chance! The fact you assented to marry me of your own accord... That brought me joy as I never felt during all these centuries! I believe I would have even released those blasted SWAT buggers...

"Alas, you were lost to me again that time... But I have yet to give you up. Even if the Damned Halls are emptied and their accursed inhabitants set loose upon me, that will not be enough to keep us apart, my beloved Callista! This time you *will* be mine!" - he stated as the rock of the wall he was groping became dust under his hand's pressure. Suddenly he fell back over the ruins, gasping for air as the sun was rapidly covered by the shifting dark clouds.

"Curses... Escaping from the dungeons of Katchu Pichu has drained me of more power than I expected... I need to regain my strength... The Mystic Tarn... Tonight is full moon... I need to get to the Mystic Tarn..."

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When people talk about retirement homes, they usually think about cozy, peaceful places where elders can come to live out the remainder of their days in peace and quiet. Hallowed Kats Day Care Center was all a retired kat could ever ask: friendly and professionally trained personnel, broad, cozy and accessible accommodations, a stunning view over the sea and large outdoor areas, including an adorable small coastal bosket bordering the cliffs for long walks enchanted by the scent of maritime pines. Usually their tenants get all the care and attention they require. Today was no exception, as the Enforcers' SWAT Team stood before Hallowed Kats.

"Surrender, Chop Shop! You're surrounded! Give yourself up peacefully and we'll go easy on you!"

"Commander, Commander..." - T-Bone muttered as he surveyed the scene from afar - "Where did you learn to negotiate with terrorists, in the fish market?"

T-Bone looked up to the new storm rolling in from the sea as he handed the binoculars to Razor, who took them and quickly inspected the situation.

"So, what do you say, bud? One good shot and we can all go home?" - he asked, almost matter-of-factly, as the first drops of the storm to come hit the burly tom square in the face.

"It's not that easy... We don't know what kind of detonator Chop Shop is holding. If it's pressure sensitive, taking him down could activate the bomb."

"An EMP, perhaps, then?" - the brawny SWAT Kat proposed, zipping his G-suit closed as a fresh wind started to pick up. Definitely not the best conditions to be flying out in the sea today, he thought.

"And render all weapons inoperable, including our own? Not a chance... Besides, we don't know either what kind of bomb he has in there. If the trigger turns out to be mechanic instead of electronic, an EMP would be useless."

T-Bone sighed - "I'm running out of options, here... Sneak attack?" - T-Bone looked towards the horizon and was amazed that he couldn't discern where the sea ended and the black clouds started until the first lightning bolt had joined the party.

"From the cliff on the seaside?" - Razor asked as a topographic map of the area showed on the screen of his glovatrix - "It could be an idea... We do know Chop Shop is alone. This might work."

T-Bone said nothing but anything he would have had to say would have been cut short by Chop Shop's voice barking his demands to the Enforcers.

"I won't come out until my demands are met!" - they heard Chop Shop scream in the distance - "A jet-powered chopper and ten billion in unmarked bills! Oh, and I want Mayor Manx and the Deputy Mayor to personally hand me the key to the City as a token of good will. You have four hours to comply!"

"You know very well we can't get what you demand in such a short window of time! Be reasonable, Chop Shop! Whatever your qualms against the City may be, those people have nothing to do with it. Let them out and we'll talk this over peacefully."

"*Three* hours, Commander! You're wasting your time!"

"What if we're unable to provide your demands in time?"

Chop Shop let out a frustrated sigh. It was like talking to a wall! - "I'm *really* getting stressed out here, Feral! If my demands aren't met, in two hours of time I'll start killing off one hostage every five minutes until either I get what I want or everyone here is *dead*! Now, *git*!"

Razor sighed - "Things don't look good, buddy. Chop Shop is crazier and more vicious than I thought!"

"I think he means it... That laughing hyena! When I get my hands on him I'll..."

"Save it. We have no time for empty threats now. We're going in."

"What's the plan, Razor?" - T-Bone asked as they ran up the ramp leading to the Turbokat's bomb bay.

"You'll fly out in a large arc and come on to the cliff from the sea. You wait in hover mode at the base of the cliff while I climb..."

"Hold it right there, mister! I let you pull off that stunt with the school bus all on your own but you're *not* talking me out of this one. The weather's not gonna hold and Chop Shop is a tough guy that..."

"More than Molly?" - Razor queried as he raised one brow. T-Bone sighed and closed his eyes.

"Point taken... But, just for the record, Razor..." - the tabby turned completely on his seat to look the slim kat in the eye - "I *don't* approve your plan."

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s--------

Dr. Sinian parked her car at the side of the street. Through the water-specked windshield, she squinted up, at the apartment building looming above her. She was still unsure whether or not this had been the right option. Sighing, she killed the motor, gathered an umbrella and her handbag and headed for the entrance hall. Reluctantly, she pressed the front door buzzer.

"Why, Abby! Come on up!" - Callie's voice sounded through the intercom and the front door opened with a loud buzz.

Dr. Sinian headed for the elevator. As she ascended, a wave of ambivalence assailed her yet again. Was this the correct option? She was still mulling over this when the elevator immobilized and the door slid open to reveal a smiling Callie.

"So, what brings you to my humble abode, Abby?" - Callie asked.

"I..." - she started but soon her voice lost its strength. She cleared her throat. - "I wanted to ask you something..."

"Sure!" - Callie steered her into the living room, where some relaxing jazz music was playing in the background. She motioned for Abby to sit down on the white leather sofa, pressed a mug of hot chocolate into her hands and sat down on the couch opposite - "Shoot!"

Abby produced a manila-paper envelope from her handbag before handing it over to Callie.

"Please, open this."

Callie did as she was told. She put aside her own warm and cozy mug of chocolate, opened the envelope and retrieved several sheets of paper from inside. They seemed like copies of some ancient manuscripts.

"What are these?"

"You can read them, can't you?"

Callie looked intently at the copies. Her heart thumped in surprise and shock.

"You recognize your handwriting, don't you... Queen Callista?"

Callie looked up at Abby, a frightened look upon her face. She didn't know what to do. Where could have Abby dug up those documents from? Nobody knew! Nobody *alive* knew! And yet here she was, confronting her... And with evidence to boot, too... She sighed inaudibly as she put the papers back in the envelope and rested it over the table. She looked Abby straight in the eye.

"Of all people who could have noticed, why am I not surprised that it had to be you, my friend? Yes, I am Callista of Megalith."

"Holy Kats, so it *is* true!" - Dr. Sinian said as she covered her mouth with both her hands, in an expression of utmost shock and disbelief. Then those manuscripts weren't just some elaborate hoax - " But how? You should have died eight hundred years ago!"

"You don't have to remind me. I find it hard to believe myself."

"But you haven't aged a day! How is that possible? Or are you using some kind of spell?"

"The answer to that question is tricky... Technically, I'm eight hundred and twenty three years old, so I *have* aged every day I had to age, although I don't look like it. I'm not *willingly* using any spell to prolong my lifespan or my youth but I'm *definitely* under some kind of spell. What spell exactly I can't say, or else I'd have died a long time ago... I would have seen to that..."

"Good Holy Kats, you've actually *witnessed* History!" - Abby said, fascinated.

"Calm down, Abby, eight hundred years is a lot of time and my memory isn't that good, so don't start asking a thousand questions 'cause you're likely to know more than I do!"

"Fair enough." - Abby assented. She was beginning to feel acquainted with Callista. After all, she was just being plain old Callie! Abby was now sure that she had chosen the right option.

"Where did you get those manuscripts? I had them destroyed centuries ago!"

"They were very far away, a whole *ocean* away, to be precise, but they *weren't* destroyed. My guess is that one of your followers loved his or her Queen too much to just let her fall into oblivion. These scrolls were found in an abbey, inside a wooden vault, very secluded from sight. If it weren't for one of my former students, we wouldn't be having this conversation today."

"They should have been destroyed, along with every other thing that belonged or related to me... If he'd found them..."

"You're talking about Khronos, right?"

"No. Khronos is dead. I'm talking about the PastMaster. Kats Above, just uttering that name gives me chills..."

"So the story narrated in those scrolls is true..."

"Every word... Regrettably..." - Callie somberly replied before taking a sip of the hot chocolate, which wasn't so hot anymore.

"You lost your husband at the hands of a maddened tom..."

"My husband..."

"How was he? No portrait of King deManx XIII survived to this day..."

Callie bore an empty smile as she looked up to ceiling. She embraced herself as though a cold gust of wind had suddenly ravaged her form.

"He wasn't the most handsome tom, I have to admit it... In that regard, Khronos beat Maurice by a mile, I give him that. Maurice was rather short and round, actually. He did have strong arms and an even stronger will. Business was his turf, he *always* got what he wanted, the way he wanted and when he wanted... He wasn't much of a lover in bed but he surely knew how to keep me happy and fulfilled... I loved him, I truly did... Unfortunately, his living closest relative isn't a tenth of the tom Maurice was..."

"You're talking about Mayor Manx, aren't you? Does Mayor Manx look like your husband?"

She smiled - "On the outside, they're like two drops of water but on the inside..."

"You're not in love with Mayor..."

"Heavens, *NO*! Kats alive, I wouldn't date him if he was the last tom on this planet! No, I still love Maurice... Even after eight hundred years of separation, my love for him hasn't cooled a bit. I love Maurice and I will *always* love him and *only* him!" - she looked outside, confirming that the weather seemed to be holding for the moment - "Would you like to see him? I'll be right back!"

Callie left the living room, briefly abandoning Abby to her now cold hot chocolate for about fifteen minutes. The curator almost dropped the mug to the floor when Callie reappeared. Her hair, formerly unrestrained and cascading down her shoulders and her back was now enveloped in a light black silk scarf with white etchings resembling flower motifs that matched those on her long thick black dress. In her hands, instead of her usual white purse were flowers. A simple bouquet made of a single red rose encircled by blue forget-me-nots.

"I'm already late. Let's go."

The drive didn't last more than twenty minutes. When both she-kats stepped out of Callie's car, they watched as the skies were slowly becoming more and more darkened by the arrival of the storm clouds from the sea. But, for the time being, the weather was still holding up.

"It's the anniversary of his passing. I had planned to come here earlier today but some things interfered..." - Callie explained as they approached a large tree located in a cliff on the outskirts of the ruins of Megalith City. She slowly hunkered down over the wet fallen leaves covering the soft grass beneath the large oak. The tree was impressive as impressive was its story. Surviving floods, fires, earthquakes, storms, wars and civilization, the small acorn had managed to grow into a sturdy sixty-foot high tree spreading its branches over an impressive area. It would take at least fifteen people to completely encircle the girth of the trunk.

Now, the tree protected both she-kats from the cold breeze wheezing from the coast. Dr. Sinian looked upwards, towards the swaying branches, taking in the rustle of the oak's remaining leaves as the last watery pearls of that morning's drizzle plunged all around her. Indeed, autumn had definitely settled in and winter was approaching with wide steps.

Looking to the base of the sturdy tree, Callie settled the flowers over a protruding root before taking away the rusty-colored leaves with her hands. A small rounded gray stone then appeared, nestled between two thick roots. She picked the bouquet and lovingly deposited it in front of the small headstone before saying an age-old silent prayer. A tear escaped her green eye, promptly caught in a gust of wind that also raised a small tourbillion of dead leaves around her. She looked up when she finished her prayer, perhaps in search of comfort but all the dark retorted arms of the old tree could give her was a strange ominous feeling...

"A better cathedral could not be found..." - Dr. Sinian whispered to the crouching she-kat in front of her, touched. Callie got to her feet and nodded.

"This oak is seven hundred and fifty seven years old. It was planted when I secretly had my husband's grave moved from the Cathedral of Consecrated Felinity in the inner bailey of Megalith City. Something told me that the Cathedral would someday be razed to the ground and I was not proven wrong..." - she remembered the destruction of Megalith City at her own hands - "I couldn't let my husband's memory be destroyed. The people of Megalith City always lived in communion with Nature. We knew that, in order to command nature, we first had to obey its whims*. So I planted the acorn after I enchanted it. And look what a beautiful tree it grew to be..."

Callie got up to her feet and turned to the curator. Both she-kats left that hallowed place light-hearted, although for different reasons.

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The rain hammered down on the canopy of the Turbokat as T-Bone squinted at Razor's ascent of the steep cliff side just below the back patio of Hallowed Kats. The burly tom tried not to worry, returning his gaze to the panel of instruments before him but he soon found himself squinting through the rain battered canopy at the face of the cliff again. Okay, so Razor wasn't actually climbing like an alpinist. Instead, the powerful motor built into his glovatrix was doing all the work but still... The wind seemed to be picking up... Or was it just his imagination? Did he see Razor stop? Did the engine stall? Did the cable break?

"Get a grip on yourself, Chance! It's not the first time he does this kind of stunt and this time he's wearing a delta pack, so should anything go screwy, at least he's got a means to flee! But why am I so uneasy? Crud, I should have gone with him... I shouldn't have let him talk me out of it..."

A larger wave broke against the side of the cliff, licking the Turbokat's frame and pulling T-Bone out of his dark thoughts. He noticed he'd unconsciously lowered his position so he was too close to the sea surface. He quickly corrected the jet's position, steering it up and away from the range of the larger waves. He looked down to the enraged sea below and shivered. Should any of them fall to such a sea, not even their corpses would ever be found...

Battered by the rain and flogged by the wind, Razor wasn't exactly having any picnic. That morning's autumnal drizzle had, it seemed, been just a prelude to this early winter storm, which was making his ascent all the harder. Still, the engine seemed to be hanging on well. He was rapidly approaching the metallic handrail of the back patio. He looked at where he'd fired the grappling hook. It'd entwined itself on one of the metal posts of the balustrade and although he could see the post had given way a little bit, it seemed it wouldn't move any further.

Razor reached the top of the cliff without complications. He quickly surveyed the place. As he expected, it was empty. Everybody was inside, safe from the rain but thickening Chop Shop's ranks of hostages. He climbed up the banister and onto the patio and quickly and silently moved on to the wall. Consulting the watch built into the glovatrix, he saw he still had more than one hour to the end of Chop Shop's deadline.

Glued to the wall, Razor headed for the nearest window and carefully peeked inside. Every light was turned off so it was fairly dark but still he managed to discern many unmoving forms inside and one that paced from one side to the other. Chop Shop was in that room along with the hostages. Now, all he needed was to sneak inside...

"Chop Shop, this is Feral" - Razor heard. He saw the pacing form stop and stiffen. - "We've got the chopper you demanded but it will take three more hours to round up the amount of money you requested."

Even in the gloom of the darkened interior, Razor could see that Chop Shop wasn't happy. He saw him moving to another room located further to the front of the retirement home. That was the opportunity Razor was waiting for. Carefully, he headed towards one of the back doors and tried the knob. To his surprise, it wasn't locked. He was about to open the door when a lightning bolt crossed the skies just behind him and, in the electric blue flash, he noticed the thin wire attached to the door knob.

"Booby trap! So, you're not as sloppy as I thought, Chop Shop... But that trap is easily avoided."

Razor disabled the trap and, after another inspection to the rest of the door, he went inside, where he waited a moment for his eyes to adapt to the new conditions of lighting. He inspected his surroundings. The room he was in had three doors, the one to the back patio, a door to his left and a door right across the room. The hostages he'd just seen were on the adjacent room to his left but they were not his primary objective. He tiptoed across the room towards the front door and silently opened it ajar.

"You're wasting your time, Commander! My demands stand as does my deadline. But I can always move forward my threat to start killing off these people every five minutes. Don't tempt me, Feral! And what about the Mayor and Deputy Mayor?"

"We're trying to reach them but..."

"No excuses, Commander! Get them here or I will start killing these people. You've wasted enough of my precious time already."

"Chop Shop, listen..."

"NO YOU LISTEN, FERAL..." - Chop Shop snatched one of the nurses by her waist and shoved a gun on her right temple - "Time's up! You have five seconds to meet the terms I demanded or this nice piece of ass will be the first to die."

Whatever strategy Razor had planned, those words had just rendered it useless.

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s--------

If he hadn't been so drained, his transportation spell would have brought him directly to the small spring hidden in the mountains. As it were, the PastMaster instead materialized in the forest at the foot of the mountain, under a hammering rain, and had no other choice but to walk the rest of the way under the downpour.

Not that he felt cold or wet or uncomfortable. He could barely feel anything at all in his present state. If he were still Khronos, then he'd certainly feel miserable under such weather. But to the PastMaster, the rain presented only a small hindrance as it made his robes cling closer to his body, encumbering his movement. He knew his way to the Mystic Tarn by heart but eight hundred years had surely altered the forest. Much to his surprise, he found that it was easier to walk in the forest nowadays than back in the Dark Ages.

"Katkind surely forgot how to live in balance with Nature... Even under this purifying rain, I can taste their pollution... And the trees, once so closely packed that they presented a challenge just to walk in a straight line, now are sparser than ever... Katkind deserves a serious wake-up call... And I'm about to deliver it..."

He remembered the glorious sunrises he'd watched atop the Tower, back in the Dark Ages, in Megalith City. The swiftness of the rising aster's brilliance sweeping across the land and enveloping everything into an untainted radiance... How he missed the feeling of the sun's rays warming his skin, the soft touch of the grass under his feet, the wetness of the morning dew around his legs, the gentle breeze caressing his face...

He missed those days so badly he actually fell to his knees right there, overwhelmed by the feeling. Again, he thought about all his companions, about Sir Astor, even about King deManx! He closed his eye and sighed as the hammering rain brought him to the present. He knew he had always longed to return to the Dark Ages but he never thought he'd long so much to be *Khronos* again... Had the Tome of Time held its sway over him in such a manner that he'd been blind all this time?

"No! The Tome of Time is mine! All mine! The Tome isn't evil... Sir Astor was... King deManx was... *She* was..."

He swept the rainwater from his face, feeling its skeletal features with the bony remains of his hands. Enraged and disgusted at his appearance, he smacked his balled fist into the soaked wet ground.

"How naive! How could I have failed to master such simple a spell as the one that creates mystic receptacles? All it required was utter concentration, nothing more!" - he looked heavenwards, teeth gritted - "If I hadn't transferred so much of my powers to that fool's cap... If only I could find the *blasted* jester and undo the spell that created him... Oh, if regret could kill..."

After a few moments of inactivity, the PastMaster rose to his feet and resumed his journey. No point in crying over spilt milk, he rightfully thought.

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s--------

At first, Chop Shop didn't really understand what had knocked him over. The gun went clattering away in the floor before he could twist his body and confront his aggressor. He was a bit surprised to see a black mask covering the face of the kat on top of him but he quickly came to his senses. Folding his legs underneath the attacker's midsection, he suddenly extended them, yanking the slim SWAT Kat off of him.

"I should have known you SWAT Kats would try something stupid like this." - Chop Shop said as he picked himself up. Razor slowly got up from the ground, always keeping an eye on the villain.

"It's over, Chop Shop! You lost already. The Enforcers have you completely surrounded. Any minute now and they'll be breaking in from everywhere and all your efforts will have been for naught."

"Is that a fact? Then I guess we won't be needing *this* anymore, don't you think?" - Chop Shop showed Razor his left hand, cupped around a small gray plastic rod with blinking yellow lights - "The moment the pressure sensors within this little gizmo here hit zero everything will rocket sky high!"

"Are you prepared to die?" - Razor bluffed.

"Are you?"

Both kats stared for a long moment at each other intensely, teeth grinding against each other, unblinking and unflinching until Chop Shop sneered maniacally.

"This *is* the end!" - Chop Shop proceeded to open his hand.

In that very moment, Razor aimed the glovatrix at Chop Shop. The split seconds the Mini Cement Launcher took to come forth and fire four cement slugs almost made Razor lose his faith. But the slugs hit their target right on time, enclosing Chop Shop's hand in a coffin of quick-drying cement, not allowing him to open his hand completely and thus preventing the pressure sensors inside the detonator to reach zero PSI. Razor blew the smoke off the barrel of the glovatrix and smiled back at the surprised Chop Shop.

"Fastest glovatrix in the West!"

"This isn't over yet, bitch!" - Chop Shop proceeded to hit his encased hand against the wall in hopes of breaking the cement and fulfilling his desperate ploy. But Razor had other plans. He fired two Mini Spider Missiles against the villain, who, completely entangled in the missiles' threads, fell to the ground, putting an end to his frantic attempts to break the cement casing.

"UNTIE ME, YOU FREAK! I'LL KILL THE LOT OF YOU! I SWEAR I'LL GUT YOU ALL FOR THIS!"

"You leave me no other choice..."

Razor's elbow crashed violently - and not without some satisfaction, Razor had to admit it - against the side of Chop Shop's skull, knocking the tom unconscious immediately. Razor sighed in relief. Finally, it was all over and no one had gotten hurt. Well, no one except Chop Shop.

When Razor got off the unmoving body of the villain, his eyes widened as he gasped in terror. He had looked down to Chop Shop's left hand and noticed the cement casing had been broken. The detonator was no longer in Chop Shop's hand but lying in the floor a few inches from his open hand. The little yellow lights had stopped flickering and remained continuously on.

"EVERYBODY OUT! NOW!" - he shrieked in panic. And panic indeed ensued. The staff began rolling wheelchairs; the ones who could walk strained their tired muscles and age-gnawed bones to run away from that place; those who couldn't were carried by those who could. The front doors soon became crowded and, with the first fall there was the first victim, trampled to death by the remaining tenants of the retirement home.

Razor stayed behind. When the last of the freezing effects of panic finally melted away, he realized something was wrong with the detonator. The bomb should have gone off the same instant Chop Shop had let go of the detonator. The slim SWAT Kat picked up the small device and inspected it. And gasped at what he found...

"It's a dud! It's just a toy!"

By the time Razor realized that, the Enforcers had already everything under control and managed to calm down the frightened people, who now were evacuating the retirement home in an ordered manner. He did not yet know that there had already been one casualty.

"Hold it right there, SWAT Kat!" - the familiar voice of Commander Feral reached Razor's ears.

"Are you detaining me, Commander?" - Razor asked as he gave the detonator to Feral - "It's a dud. Chop Shop was bluffing all along. I bet the only weapon he had was that gun."

"You think so?" - Feral queried as he inspected the toy in his hands - "Did you know your evacuation order caused one death and several injured?"

Razor did not respond to that but Feral nonetheless saw he'd just caught the SWAT Kat by surprise. Instead of answering his interlocutor, he headed for the back patio, followed by Feral. Once there, he went to the balustrade, under the heavy rainfall, chin glued to his chest. Feral stayed behind, protected from the rain inside the retirement home. Razor didn't want Feral to see the tears soaking his mask and running down his facial fur.

"Get a grip, Jake!" - he thought to himself moments later before he looked above, letting the raindrops fall directly over his face - "You did what you judged to be best. It's not your fault! It's *not* your fault!"

He felt a strong hand over his shoulder. Looking back, Razor was surprised to see Feral there.

"You did what was right. When we first got here, Chop Shop had showed the detonator to me and I too thought it was real. And you know I've seen my fair share of detonators, so don't punish yourself for that."

The SWAT Kat cocked one eyebrow. Feral was trying to cheer him up? Had the world come to an end without him knowing? It certainly felt like it when three explosions made their strong roars heard in a rapid succession that didn't last more than two seconds.

Razor and Feral ducked and covered their heads from the falling debris. When they looked up again, the retirement home had disappeared and, in its place, only a pile of rubble remained. But worse than that was the constant tremor that was being transmitted throughout the ground.

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s--------

T-Bone looked up when the roar of the explosions reached his ears. Instantly, he gunned the VTOL engines and the jet hurtled upwards. It was with dread that he watched as the whole side of the cliff abated over his head.

Almost out of reflex, he gunned the aft engines full throttle and barely managed to avoid the largest falling blocks of rock, albeit the jet was still hit by several of the smaller ones, cracking the canopy open.

Now the strength of the storm invaded the Turbokat's cockpit. T-Bone lowered his helmet's visor and quickly put on the oxygen mask before he stabilized the jet. He turned around to face the falling cliff side. He squinted through the visor, intent on locating his partner but failing to acquire his target.

"RAZOR! RAZOR, DO YOU COPY? RAZOR!"

No response. For what seemed like an eternity, not even a crackle of static was heard from the other side of the line. A deep sinking feeling enveloped the brawny tom for only a moment before the radio finally crackled to life and Razor's voice reached his ears.

"I could use some backup right about now, buddy!" - he seemed distressed.

"RAZOR! Where are you, buddy? You're not reading on my scope!"

"I've deployed my delta pack but I can't make it back to the Turbokat! I'll send out a flare."

Moments later, T-Bone saw the familiar red light of one of their flares to his right. Of course Razor had to be downwind. He mentally kicked himself for his thickness. As he squinted through the shattered canopy, he managed to find the reddish delta wing.

"I see you. I'm going in."

"Hurry! I can't hold out in this storm for much longer!" - he seemed almost desperate.

"Hang on, buddy!"

T-Bone dashed towards his partner. When he came within range, he fired a net that engulfed the triangular shape beneath the jet and pulled it in via bomb bay doors.

"Hang in there, buddy. I've got you now!" - T-Bone reported, awash with relief - "What happened back there? I heard you saying, through the com-link, that the detonator was a dud! What was that explosion all about?"

"Apparently it wasn't just a toy." - Razor responded, his voice sounding slightly stressed through the com-link as he exited the bomb bay and climbed back to his seat, strapping in - "The bomb had obviously some kind of timing device. Most likely, it was rigged to blow a few minutes after the pressure sensitive detonator reached zero PSI... To allow Chop Shop enough time to escape unscathed..."

"While the tenants and the Enforcers die in his stead." - a rumbling aggressive third voice snarled through the com-link, nearly making the big tom jump in his seat from shock and surprise - "He's gonna have some serious charges to answer to when he wakes up..."

"Commander Feral?" - T-Bone looked back to find Feral standing behind Razor's seat. Feral smiled at the tabby's surprised countenance behind the oxygen mask Razor had proffered him.

"Yeah. He was with me when the devices went off." - now that he was back in the relative safety of the Turbokat, Razor addressed his guest in his usual light manner - "How about we drop you off at the rim of the cliff, Commander?"

Feral wrinkled his nose in response, making the skin between his eyes to fold deeply- "I can't wait to get out of this jet. How often do you guys shower? Once a week?"

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s--------

Afternoon was approaching fast when the PastMaster finally entered the secret passage through the bosom of the imposing mountain looming over him. Good. He was tired of rain already. A small energy ball, conjured using only a tiny fraction of his remaining powers, granted some purplish light to the dark, damp and diminutive corridor he was walking through.

Soon enough, he came to the other side and was forced to blink twice. A thick pocket of haze covered everything in sight. He cast a spell to clear away the mist and reveal the dark blue waters of the Mystic Tarn. In the farther corner of the pond there was a small cascade of crystalline water, falling from a couple hundred feet high and spreading its liquid content in the air as a haze and crashing down on the rocks. Dark green spots of vegetation, like strokes on a watercolor, punctuated the otherwise bare gray rocks, falling down like tresses from their higher resting places.

He closed his eyes and his mind wandered back centuries although the location was exactly the same. He looked down to his arms and saw the gray fur stand on end.

"Master, it's *icy*" - he complained, shivering fiercely.

"It's good for your muscle tonus." - Sir Astor responded as he entered the waters of the pond, robes and all. Khronos, Telluros, Pyros, Hydor and Eolos, stripped from the waist up, watched the elder walk into the glacial dark blue waters to his waist level and were amazed when they saw a trail of light bluish glow in the aging tom's wake.

"It's also good for your magic, as you can plainly see." - he smiled - "Come on, the water's fine!"

"Oh, what the heck... CANNONBALL!" - Pyros yelled before he ran towards the pond and jumped in. The immense splash of water hit everyone but Hydor, who just cast a spell to maneuver the water droplets around him. When Pyros resurfaced and swung his head to clear the water off his mane, Sir Astor greeted him with the coldest glare imaginable. Still, Pyros and the rest could not help to laugh at their soaked wet master.

"Oh, you'll all pay *dearly* for this..."

With a wave of his staff, Sir Astor made all four kats in the margin levitate freely in the air. When they were located just above Pyros and he was gaping up, awestruck, Sir Astor broke the levitating spell and the four kats dropped like stones over poor Pyros, plunging them all into the gelid waters. When Khronos and Telluros came to the surface, gasping for air and of coldness, they noticed the elder's fatherly smile.

"Now, let's be done with these childish games and focus on what we're here to do. Pay close attention... *Hydor*!"

The fair-furred tom broke the spell that kept the water away from him and was suddenly immersed in the chilling liquid. All his comrades stared silently at him.

"What? You'd all have done the same if you could!" - he shrugged.

"The water that forms this pond is magic, as you're all undoubtedly aware by now. The mystic reverberations are not only soothing but also replenishing. Should your magic powers ever become depleted and you are in dire need of replenishment, come to this place. It is guarded by the most powerful cloaking spell I could muster but the five of you will know how to enter this secluded place if you memorize the trail here. Any "bread crumb" trail you leave behind to serve as a pointer to this place will promptly be displaced or erased, for the road is also enchanted."

"How did you learn of this place, master?" - Khronos asked as a small shiver ravaged his body.

"My teacher showed it to me, as his teacher had and his teacher's teacher... What is important about this place is that its magic is neutral: it does not stand for any element over the other and does not discriminate evil from good no more than it can empower you beyond your present capacities. Now come. Join me in meditation beneath the waterfall."

When the PastMaster opened his eye, he found himself immersed in the water up to his waist. He sighed and snarled half-heartedly. He would have more than *welcomed* the gelid touch of those waters but he felt absolutely nothing. He muttered a spell to prevent him from sinking to the bottom and thus he swam to the waterfall, robes and all. Moments later, he sat in lotus position under the icy sheets of water, which abated mercilessly over his neck and shoulders, allowing the replenishing properties of that magical fluid to douse him as he closed his eye and began his meditation.

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s--------

"Hey, Razor?" - T-Bone asked through the com-link as he steered the Turbokat towards the Salvage Yard. The rain had finally stopped and the wind howled with less ferocity around the frame of the fighter jet but the skies remained as menacing as before, with ink-black clouds roofing the large city.

"Yeah?"

T-Bone narrowed his eyes. Razor's comeback had been much less intense and lively than he'd hoped for.

"How are you doing?"

"How do you think?"

The tabby drew in a deep breath.

"My order caused casualties. I should have checked the detonator more carefully. Someone is dead because of my irresponsibility." - Razor continued, his voice only loud enough to be heard.

"Are you listening to yourself? What you're saying doesn't make any sense!"

Razor blinked and looked at the back of T-Bone's helmet in front of him.

"What would you have done if you had taken the time to check the detonator?"

Razor didn't answer immediately. He knew where T-Bone was headed for.

"I might have done two things: either I wouldn't have issued an evacuation order or I would have."

"And, what would have been the consequences if you hadn't told those people to get the hell out of there?"

"Lots of innocent people would have died..."

"So, from where I'm standing, I'd say you had only one choice: to issue and evacuation order as fast as possible. Dozens of kats were saved because of your order, bud."

"And I suppose that makes it okay for the one who died..."

"No, Razor, it doesn't make it okay for the poor guy who died. But you said it yourself: there wasn't anything else you could have done."

Razor cleaned the wetness that had formed in the corner of his eye with his gloved hand - "I suppose..." - he looked again at the back of T-Bone's helmet - "How come something like this doesn't affect you?"

The tabby looked to the distance for a little while before he replied - "It does."

Razor looked intensely at his comrade.

"We just have different ways to deal with it." - the tabby completed before the radio crackled.

"SWAT Kats! Come in, please!"

"We're here, Miss Briggs!" - Razor responded - "What seems to be the problem now?"

"I have a personal favor to ask of you, guys. I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries here..."

"Anything for you, Miss Briggs!" - T-Bone answered - "We just have to get back to the hangar to refuel and replace the Turbokat's canopy. But after that, we're all yours!"

"Won't that take all day long?"

The tabby winked - "With Razor's gadgets working full throttle? We'll be ready well within the hour!"

"So, what can we do for you, Miss Briggs?"

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s--------

Mayor Manx warily eyed the foreboding skies from inside his limousine as he covered the distance between the airport and the newest wind farm on the outskirts of Megakat City. He excused himself from the guest at his side, the ever-present Mr. Young, and turned his head to speak into his cell phone confidentially.

"I hope no rain blemishes the ceremony. Did you remember to provide for a tarp, Callie?"

"Don't worry, Mayor. Every contingency is sure to be covered." - she smiled at her own wit, reassuring the Mayor. She was at the wind farm already, standing at the foot of the makeshift podium constructed at the front gate of the main building, the Mayor's speech inside a briefcase in her hand. Far as the eye could see behind the main building stood but a few of the four hundred wind turbines, which spanned over a total area of about eighty square miles, making Megakat Wind Farm one of the largest in the planet. The project had cost *dearly* to the City Treasury, as well to foreign investors. One of them was Mr. Young, who surely had a knack for investing in such a unique city as Megakat was.

"Good, good. We will be there in about five minutes."

"By then everything will be ready, Mayor." - She looked up, and between wisps of cloud she managed to pinpoint the Turbokat. She smiled and sighed on the sly. She felt a whole lot better when the SWAT Kats had acquiesced to serve as their bodyguards for the inauguration ceremony. For some reason, she couldn't forget that silly little poem she had received.

When the Mayor and his distinguished visitor reached the wind farm, a small crowd had already assembled. Thunder rolled in the distance, so Mayor Manx hastened up the steps to the podium and started his speech, while T-Bone and Razor flew over the area, sometimes hidden through the clouds but constantly surveying the ceremony.

"The weather isn't going to hold, Razor. I keep picking up spikes in the electromagnetic sensor. It's gonna blast soon."

"I read you; we'd better play it safe this time. Shutting off dimensional radar."

As soon as the radar was off, T-Bone broke from the cloud cover and proceeded to do a visual reconnaissance of the area as Razor swept the place with every conceivable wavelength of the electromagnetic spectrum available to them. The area seemed secure.

In fact, the impending danger did not come from below but rather from behind and above them. The frame of the jet shook violently when a powerful lightning bolt hit it. Lights of warning came to life all over the instruments panel.

"Where the hell did *that* come from?" - T-Bone queried as he attended the several warnings that had fired off.

"Beats me but it seems it's coming again! I've got a spike in the reader!"

And so it came. Another bolt hit the jet, this time destroying its tail and causing the jet to hurtle towards the ground.

"Crud! The rear stabilizers!" - Razor shouted - "They're gone!"

"Switching to hover mode!"

That stopped the jet from crashing down on the ground but still, without the use of its tail stabilizers, it was almost futile to try to control the jet and, much to the stunned crowd's surprise, the black jet all but fell from the sky just a couple dozen yards away, narrowly missing one of the wind generators.

But that was just the first of many surprises. The next was a pillar of pure electricity rushing down from the heavens and striking one of the wind turbines dead center, causing it to crash over another, which, in turn, caused it to fall apart as well, missing the main building by scant inches. However, another bolt hit the main building, destroying most of its faade.

"Mayor Manx, look out!" - Callie blurted and ducked, together with the Mayor under the podium. She closed her eyes and waited for the rumbling sound of the falling concrete to cease. She was surprised to hear a guttural and deep grunt of either effort or pain. She opened her eyes and looked back over her shoulder to the frowning face of Commander Feral. The Commander had used himself as a shield against the debris shot from the tumbling fascia and had, indeed, been hit by some heavy chunks of concrete and the marble from the inauguration plaque.

"Commander! Thank you! Are you all right?" - Callie asked, truly concerned. The husky brown-furred tom got up and shook the dust and rubble off him.

"I'm fine, Miss Briggs. How's the Mayor?"

"He's well, thanks to you, Commander. Now what the hell is going on?"

The Commander looked up at the flashing storm clouds and narrowed his eyes. There was only one tom that could do such a thing and he growled out his name.

"Hard Drive."

As if on cue, a thunderbolt dashed from the skies and hit the ground in front of the podium. In the middle of the crater it created, in a blue electric flash, a kat bearing a strange turquoise coat and a mohawk materialized and sneered.

"Well, well, looks like the gang's all here! Lucky me!"

"Looks like you've been learning some new tricks, light blip!" - T-Bone said as he fired a mini spider missile, which wrapped around Hard Drive, knocking him to the ground. The villain merely smiled before he turned into a brilliant flash of electricity and thundered towards T-Bone, hitting him square in the chest. The tabby screamed as white-hot digits of searing pain enveloped him.

When Hard Drive reappeared in his solid form again a few feet away, everyone witnessed in shock as the brawny SWAT Kat lay motionless on the ground, blood leaking from his nostrils. Razor was the first to come to him and soon realized his partner wasn't breathing. He immediately started CPR and fortunately, only seconds later, his friend gasped back to life.

"Wha-what happened?" - T-Bone queried in a slurry manner as he gasped the precious air.

"Later, buddy. Let's just say you were out for a while." - Razor narrowed his eyes as he looked to the grinning villain, feeling an incredibly strong dj vu. Hard Drive, just like the Metallikats and Chop Shop before, seemed more vicious than ever. Of all the times they had fought Hard Drive, he'd let perfectly clear just how powerful and deadly he could be but never came to such extremes. Now, with a single strike, he'd managed to nearly kill T-Bone. *Kill*! Something was definitely *not* right!

"Are you okay already?"

"I'm fine. How do we unplug this guy, Razor?"

"Like this. HEY, SPARKY! ONE RIGHT HERE!" - Razor growled and pointed to the middle of his chest. Hard Drive was only too happy to oblige. He converted into the familiar flashing blue plasma and rushed towards the slim SWAT Kat.

"RAZOR, LOOK OUT!" - Callie shouted but to no avail. Silence followed a strong sound and a bright flash. The next second, she saw T-Bone supporting Razor by his shoulders. Stunned, she looked around but was unable to find Hard Drive. After a moment of hesitation, she ran towards the SWAT Kats.

"Well done, buddy!" - T-Bone cheered Razor up in a muttered warm voice. The slim kat gingerly got to his feet and shook his head.

"Oooooh... Remind me never to do this again..."

"Razor, are you okay? Where's Hard Drive?" - the Deputy Mayor asked, concerned.

"He's in that Mini Insulated Missile, Miss Briggs." - T-Bone answered for Razor, who was still trying to shake off the dizziness. He pointed to a small white missile a couple of yards away, still flickering with little electric sparks.

"You managed to fool him again with that same trick!"

"Yeah! What a loser..."

"Temper, temper, ladies and gentlekats!" - a familiar voice snickered from above them.

They all looked above and, atop one of the closest wind generators, there was Hard Drive.

"If I'm really inside that insulated missile, then what am I doing up here?" - he returned to his flashing blue plasmatic form - "Unless, of course, I'm omnipresent and in that case you're fighting a GOD!"

The last word was roared out as he thundered down towards them. The impact on the ground was so large it created a shockwave that hurled everybody back at least a couple of yards. Razor was the first to get up but did not dare to make a move against the flickering mass of electricity that slowly regained feline form.

"So what I felt wasn't just a shockwave, as I thought. When I fired the Mini Insulated Missile, some of Hard Drive's energy must have gotten trapped in it but he somehow managed to avoid it and struck me as well! Crud, he's learning from his past mistakes!"

Suddenly, they heard the familiar sound of rotors. They looked to the skies towards Megakat City and saw five Enforcer choppers heading their way, fully armed and ready to do some damage. Hard Drive just grinned.

"The fools actually think they can stop me!" - he looked straight at Commander Feral - "You don't get it, do you, Commander? Your toys make absolutely no difference! Now, you'll clearly see the error in your actions!"

Hard Drive turned into energy and arced out to one of the approaching helicopters. Once aboard, he let out a mild electric discharge, just enough to leave everyone inside unconscious. He assumed command of that chopper and, with thin strings of electricity flickering off his fingers, he engaged the weapons systems, targeted the already approaching four helicopters and fired off a volley of every piece of ammo he'd got.

Feral watched powerless at the carnage that ensued. The four choppers were destroyed in mere seconds and burning metal carcasses fell from the skies, hitting a number of wind generators and destroying them as well. Only the chopper Hard Drive commandeered remained airborne but not for long. As he abandoned the flying machine, arcing back to the earth, the chopper banked sharply to the right and soon met the ground with explosive force.

Hard Drive walked slowly and confidently towards the fuming Commander. The villain was smiling, delighted at the show he'd just served.

"This is Feral! Bring me..." - the brawny tom bellowed into his handset but his word was cut short by a bolt of electricity that hit him dead center, sending him flying away and making him acquainted with the dirt. The Commander felt his hands tingling and he soon found out he couldn't speak clearly. It was then that another electric ray hit him and made him pass out instantaneously.

"One down, four to go. Now, who'll be next? I've got plenty of *juice* to go around!"

"Razor!" - T-Bone whispered and looked back surreptitiously at the Turbokat. Razor acknowledged and darted for the jet. In the meantime, T-Bone fired all his stock of mini insulated missiles at Hard Drive, who just converted to his plasmatic state and easily escaped the incoming projectiles before reassuming feline form.

"Is that the best you can do, SWAT Kat?"

"Not really!" - T-Bone said as he ducked. Hard Drive frowned as he watched the barrel of the Turbokat's cement machinegun center on him. Understanding dawning upon him, he barely had time to move away from the first two shots before he once again turned into pure electricity and arced to the top of one of the wind turbines.

"Crud! I can't shoot him when he's up there!" - Razor cursed - "But there's always the upper missile launcher!"

"So that's the way you want it, huh? Fine, then!"

Hard Drive began to charge himself up. His body became surrounded by flashing thunderbolts, although this time he hadn't turned into plasma. He remained in this state long enough for Razor to fire a volley of spider missiles but the projectiles never hit their target, rather diverting their pre-programmed trajectories all around Hard Drive.

"Your aim needs improving, Razor!" - T-Bone remarked, sarcastically.

"It's not my aim! The missiles were diverted around him! Only a very strong magnetic field could do that!" - Razor said and a bottomless pit opened under his stomach just as soon as he finished uttering those words. He looked at Hard Drive, who was still charging up. He lowered his visor and scanned the lightning lit tom only to see his worries confirm. A powerful magnetic field was developing around the electric field created by Hard Drive. The tom was acting like a giant capacitor. And he was reaching critical mass!

"Oh, no!" - was all Razor had time to whisper before a pulsing wave exploded soundlessly from Hard Drive in all directions. It took only nanoseconds for the pulse to reach them but none of them felt anything. The wave, in itself, could neither be seen nor heard, so, to the kats assembled there, it seemed that Hard Drive had just stopped charging up and was now standing on top of a wind turbine, stupidly grinning at them and doing seemingly nothing. It was only moments later that T-Bone widened his eyes and muttered - "Oh, no!"

Razor didn't have to point his glovatrix at Hard Drive like T-Bone tried to know it wasn't working. In fact, nothing aboard the Turbokat worked, he was sure of it. All circuit boards had just been fried.

"Fire, damn it, FIRE!"

"It's no use, T-Bone! You know what he did..." - Razor stated as he placed his hand on T-Bone's shoulder.

T-Bone lowered his gaze to the useless weapon and slowly took it off his arm and let it fall to the ground. Callie stared at T-Bone with a confused look in her features. She couldn't understand why their weapons weren't working. As neither did Mayor Manx.

"What are you waiting for, SWAT Kats?" - the Mayor blabbered - "Just shoot him down already before he makes me lose *millions*!"

"They can't, Mayor!" - Hard Drive said from his place on top the wind turbine - "Not after the EMP I've just served them."

"EMP?" - Callie asked, confused. Hard Drive arced down the wind generator and stood right in front of them.

"Electromagnetic pulse, sweetheart. The weapon of tomorrow in the hands of today's bad kat..." - Hard Drive snickered before he hit an unsuspecting Mayor Manx with a lightning bolt. The Mayor instantly blacked out.

"You son of a..." - T-Bone lunged at the blue-coated tom but only to be thrown back by a rather powerful electric bolt. The brawny SWAT Kat lay in the ground in the painful paroxysm of severely contracting muscles. Razor soon received the same treatment. Hard Drive slowly and confidently approached the defenseless SWAT Kats. He would have shot another bolt if it hadn't been for Callie jumping over his back and starting to smack her petite fists against his head. However, even this was short-lived for a mild electric shock soon sent the Deputy Mayor off his back and brought her to the ground. Hard Drive looked back over his shoulder.

"I'll save you for last, Deputy Mayor. Just hang in there, honey. As for you, SWAT Kats, time for a small lesson." - he fired a weak electric ray, just enough to make the SWAT Kats' muscles spasm harder - "Biology 101: what happens when muscular tissue is submitted to continuously increasing amperage?"

He hunkered between both fallen and aching SWAT Kats and placed each of his hands over their chests before releasing a high voltage, low amperage electric discharge. He felt the heroes' muscles contracting spasmodically and grinned.

"Answer: they contract so many times that eventually they don't even have time to relax and so become continuously contracted, preventing you from breathing and leading to one result, death by suffocation."

The amperage increased. Both toms opened their mouths but only a silent scream came out of them.

"Time for a concept test, don't you think?"

Hard Drive prepared to finish the heroes off with a massive electric discharge when, all of a sudden, the techno-crook was hit hard by something that made him tumble forward. Hard Drive grunted in pain and stroke the back of his neck. When he looked back he expected to see the Deputy Mayor with some sort of makeshift mace in her hands but instead what he saw left him speechless.

Callie was there, no surprise in that. But her looks had taken a turn for the worse. Her hair waved aswirl around her face, as though caught in a strong wind. Her eyes blazed in a bright golden color and, to top it off, she was floating a good couple of feet above the ground! Only several stunned seconds later did a surprised Hard Drive notice the golden sparks flickering on and off on her balled fists.

"Sister, did you *dare*..." - Hard Drive started but was cut off by a golden discharge of mystical energy.

"I dare do all that makes thee crawl beneath my feet, cur."

Even her lovely voice had changed! The tone was so dark and terrible that Hard Drive could do little but shiver and cower in fear in the presence of Dame Callista, Queen of Megalith. Of course, in his present state of mind, Hard Drive could never have made the association. At least, not before another torrent of raw mystical power washed over him, bringing unconsciousness to the terrified tom.

Razor and T-Bone couldn't believe in their eyes as well. They, however, had recognized their savior almost instantly. Despite the pain he felt, Razor's heart throbbed harder in contentment to see his Queen one more time before darkness enveloped his mind as well as T-Bone's.

Callista calmed down as she became aware of Hard Drive's unconsciousness. She floated back to the ground and her hair lost the energy that animated it in a colubrine frenzy. Taking some deep breaths, she pulled her hair behind her back and searched for her glasses. She was still looking for them when a cloud of sulfurous smoke exploded in front of her. Immediately, she recognized the foe thrown in her path.

"MadKat!" - she growled.

"Why, Dame Callista, my Queen! I'm touched that you still remember me!" - he said as he tried to caress her cheek. She shook his hand away.

"How *dare* you touch your Queen, you wretch?"

"You're not queen of anything now save from some old ruins." - he smiled and turned his back to Callista, staring at the gray skies - "How you've eluded time is a mystery to me but, then again, so have I! It seems the knight that forged what I am succeeded in bringing Megalith City to its knees, I see. But who brought *him* to his knees? Surely not your pheasant king. Was it the work of his comrades? Now, there's something I'd have liked to watch."

He looked at the fallen techno-crook and made a disgusted face as he gingerly kicked his head.

"Garbage! What a waste of my magic, to possess these so-called felons... A burst of magic and they go all limp like a boned squirrel..."

"You mean... The Metallikats, Chop Shop and now Hard Drive..."

"Attempts at having some fun at your expense, my pretty Queen. Now I wonder who could have defeated Khronos. Perhaps the old geezer, maybe."

With a sardonic smile in his lips, he turned to face Callista, only to gape and gasp at his Queen's eyes sparkling in a bright golden light.

"Why don't you try someone *else*?" - she rumbled, sparks flickering in her delicate hands.

"You?" - MadKat's disbelief was tangible - "You managed to defeat the one who bested me? Impossible!"

"Unlikely but not impossible. And I will succeed where Khronos failed."

"Tall words for someone whose magic expertise did not stand a chance against only a fraction of my powers!" - he gloated before he turned into a giant ball - "You will excuse me if I'm not so gentle today!"

He leapt high into the air, intent on squashing Callista on his way down. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next. He felt himself being immobilized while still in the air. He turned back to his feline form and gaped as he saw Callista holding him unmoving in the air with a mere finger.

"A Queen keeps her promises. SPHERE OF CONTRACTION!"

MadKat broadened his eyes in terror. He remembered that spell and he did *not* want to get caught in it again. So before Callista had finished her incantation, he burst into another yellow cloud, making it impossible for her to pin the spell on him.

"I'm not falling for that old trick anymore, my little Queen! You'll have to do more than those scrawny fledgling attacks to defeat me!" - his voice hung in the air, although he remained unseen.

"How about some *new* tricks, then?" - Callista grinned.

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The reverberations were sensible even in that secluded place. It had been a while since the PastMaster felt them, at the same time so familiar and so not in tune with the calming mystic reverberations from that mythic place. He opened his eye, slowly. He'd spent the last couple of hours underneath the frigid waterfall, meditating on everything he'd done eight hundred years ago and came to a conclusion. Although he did miss his friends and master, he *didn't* regret having been the harbinger of their deaths. Callista would make everything better. She surely wouldn't refuse him now. His hopes, kindled by her willing request to marry him back in the Katchu Pichu ruins, had in the meantime bolstered his resolve. She was softer, weak, her determination undermined by the centuries of solitude, he reasoned. If only he could be the tom he once was... But for that, he needed...

The PastMaster suddenly widened his eye. He'd finally recognized those mystic reverberations! An incredibly powerful burst of radiant purple energy made the waterfall run up for a moment in an inverted shower of water droplets, only to remain frozen in a hollow sphere all around the mystical knight as the PastMaster roared out MadKat's name in contempt, surprise and relief.

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"Sharper than the beaks of eagles/ I call forth the Ice Needles!" - Callista chanted before the spell made the humidity in the air gather and freeze in order to conjure several large icicles that were then hurtled against MadKat. It was a slight, albeit more powerful, variant of the spell commonly used by Hydor in battle.

The mad jester had, however, no trouble with that attack. Turning his body as malleable as rubber, he swiftly dodged the incoming ice spears. When that danger was averted, he pounced over the queen, flattening his body like a large blanket, intent on wrapping himself around Megalith's Master Mage in order to smother her. But it was a mistake. Callista swiftly moved her arms in a wide circle before pulling them together in an upward motion. From underneath the flattened form of MadKat, a giant rocky spike thrust up, effectively landing a most powerful uppercut to the jester's midsection. Without wasting any time, she extended her arms in front of her to release a massive torrent of fire that washed over her unprepared foe, burning him. MadKat fell in a heap to the ground.

"The wind flows/ In strength it grows/ Sharper than a knife/ I call the Wind Scythe!" - she proclaimed in order to use the trademarked spell of Eolos and swished her arm in a slashing motion. The wind blade she created hit MadKat's arm, tearing it off his body.

"How's that for a scrawny fledgling, you wretched excuse for a bad yarn?" - she gloated but MadKat seemed unimpressed. He simply burst into a myriad of smaller ball-like versions of himself that scurried all around Callista, chittering as they went. When Callista was completely surrounded, they started to pounce over her, literally covering her features. The small copies burst into a pasty mass as they contacted with Callista's body. She gasped as the rest of those small figurines jumped over her, covering her completely in a whirling red and beige mass. MadKat's face appeared in the moving mass, distorted by the spinning movements but always grinning.

Callista could feel herself suffocating. She had to act fast or she was going to die there and then. Conjuring up a large amount of raw mystical energy, she blasted out a large conflagration, much like the one that doomed Megalith City but considerably less potent. With that magic assault, she managed to get rid of her attacker but soon enough, MadKat reformed himself in his giant version.

"Accursed wretch... What does it take to defeat you?" - she thought to herself as she watched the giant in front of her warily. She had already attacked him with the might of the four elements with disappointing results. What was left for her to try?

"Tired already, my little weak fledgling? But I have so *many* bad yarns for you!" - his left arm turned into a sword and his right arm into a flail, always tinted in the same colors - "Have you heard the one of the sword and the morning star? I must say it's a *killer*!"

He struck. First, a slash of the sword that Callista had no trouble to dodge. However, the stroke of the flail that came afterward barely missed her. She grimaced. Although she could conjure weapons like MadKat could, it would avail her little. Hand-to-hand combat had never been her forte. All she could do was to rely on her magic and her wits. MadKat struck again and Callista only had time to erect a stout barrier to protect herself.

"Already resorting to protective magic? I thought you were made of sterner stuff, my little Queen. Surely you weren't the one to bring down the Gray Devil!" - he said before he started to laugh. She glared at him for the briefest of moments before she chanted another spell.

"The wind that blows in ire/ Takes the air you respire./ Your agony is dire/ When you in void expire."

The wind picked up, and, much to MadKat's surprise he found out that the gusts of wind made his movements very hard. He soon realized the howling winds were circling him and effectively limiting his movements, binding him like invisible chains. Shortly after that, he started to have trouble breathing. He shrunk to his normal size and was relieved to notice that the sphere of encircling winds did not shrink with him. However, he was still having trouble to breathe, as though the air inside had been becoming thinner with every passing moment. Soon enough, MadKat started to see lights dancing in front of his eyes.

"What... magic... is this... you witch?" - he struggled to utter, after what he had to kneel on the ground. He was beginning to feel dizzy and the corners of his vision had already started to turn black. A few moments later and the mad jester fell to ground, utterly unconscious from the air deprivation caused by the vacuum that spell produced within the walls of the howling and binding winds.

Callista only broke the spell when she was confident the mad jester was not pretending. She fell over her rear when she broke the spell, slightly worn out. No wonder Eolos had ever been unable to use that spell, even if he was a practitioner of wind magic, she thought as she cleaned the beads of perspiration that had formed in her forehead. She lay down on her back on the gravel of the ground and closed her eyes, resting for a moment.

It was however, a short rest for something made her jump upright. A mystical emanation she thought lost after the fires of the Damned Halls beneath had engulfed its bearer. She looked around, scrutinizing her surroundings. Alas, the fleeting sensation had seemingly left no physical evidences save one: MadKat was no longer there. His body had disappeared. She came to her feet and continued to survey the place but everything seemed exactly as before, with the exception of the missing body. Could have she mistaken that emanation for MadKat's? It hadn't been so long ago that she felt it... But the PastMaster was dead, was he not? *Was he not*?

Her train of thought was soon put to a rest after she heard the grunts of pain of her heroes coming back to the world of the conscious.

"My... Queen..." - Razor called her out in a voice that was more wheeze than anything else - "My Queen... Where... are you?"

Like a maggot trying to crawl for the first time, Razor could still barely move. He found out that his extremities were still numb. Even his voice, now somewhat stronger, was still slurred after the effects of electricity. His eyes didn't focus too well and anxiety gripped at his heart.

"*My Queen*..."

"I'm here, Razor."

Through the torpor still grasping his body, he felt her touch his hand and he closed his eyes as he smiled and sighed out in relief.

"Is that... really you... my Queen? Are you... okay?"

"Ooooh, that son of a *bitch* got us good..." - T-Bone complained as he tried to sit up and failed miserably.

"*T-Bone*! Mind your manners!" - Razor hissed.

"S-sorry, Callie..."

"It's okay, you two have just been through a lot. And to answer your question, Razor, I'm fine, thanks."

"I'm sorry we couldn't do more to protect you, Callie..." - T-Bone mumbled as he tried to sit up again, this time managing it. Razor was also regaining his motion.

"How can this be? I mean, I can't believe the Callie I know has suddenly turned into a powerful sorceress! Is it really you, Queen Callista?" - Razor queried as his sight slowly but steadily regained its focus. He looked straight into the emerald eyes of the she-kat.

"I am Dame Callista of Megalith and also Miss Callico Briggs of Megakat. I'm no longer queen of anything, so you don't have to be all reverent around me! I'm still Callie!"

Both SWAT Kats were now well enough to stand up by themselves. T-Bone went back to the Turbokat, intent on doing a damage check. Razor, however, stayed at Callista's side. He gulped, trying to summon the courage to utter his next words.

"My Queen... Do you remember the last words I said back in Megalith City, eight hundred years ago?"

She acknowledged with an almost imperceptible nod.

"You said that you wouldn't mind remaining in Megalith City for the rest of your nine lives. You were a sweet but..."

"I still mean it. I would have abandoned everything and everyone to stay in Megalith City..." - he took her hand and gently placed it over his chest, where she could feel his heart pulsing strongly - "With you..."

T-Bone's ears drooped and his heart also beat stronger. Though outstanding as their friendship was, he always knew that one day they'd have to part. Love always came before friendship and he knew it to be true for *both* of them. He swallowed and closed his eyes, dreading the "yes" to come but desiring it for Jake anyway.

Callista's eyes acquired a saddened look as she stared at her hand being gently held against the hero's chest. She closed her eyes and sighed before she opened them again and looked Razor straight in the eye.

"No, Razor, I can't do that." - she retrieved her hand and she could almost swear she heard the sound of Razor's heart shattering as though it was made of crystal. But the worst was yet to come and she decided that he should be aware of everything so she minced not the words she spoke - "And there are several reasons why I can't accept your love. First and always, I'm a married she-kat. Second, although my husband has been long dead, I still carry him in my heart and I always will. I love my husband, Razor, please understand that! Even if he's not with me anymore, I have always, still do and will always love him, to the very end of my days."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the three kats for a few moments. Only the wind-swept trees murmured their low-pitched song. Razor felt as if a bucket of icy water had just been dipped over him. As he kept his head abated over his chest, he was glad for the absorbing fabric of the bandanna. That way, she wouldn't have to see his tears.

T-Bone looked back at Razor from the jet. He could almost taste the slender SWAT Kat's sadness. He *knew*, even without looking at Razor's face, that he was inconsolable. Razor had talked so much about Callista in the weeks that followed that mission in Megalith City. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see that the slim kat had completely fallen in love with the queen... He'd tried to persuade Razor out of it, that it had only been a once in a lifetime visit to the Dark Ages, that she probably had already forgotten him, that she probably was already betrothed to someone else... Razor had finally come to his senses, it seemed, reasoning that those were logic scenarios and, in time, stopped mentioning the name of Callista completely. But the tabby knew a love like that never really dies. He sometimes heard the slim kat calling out her name in his dreams. And now, fate, it seemed, had suddenly placed the queen again in Razor's path, only to deal him a "go to the beginning without stopping by the prison" card... It just wasn't fair...

"So, you managed to defeat Hard Drive easily, did you?" - Razor asked, affable and beaming.

That elicited another smile from Callista, a smile that couldn't, however, tell of the relief she felt after the guilt of mercilessly breaking Razor's heart. Eight hundred years had surely chilled more than kindled her emotions. She hated the bluntness of the words she used to ward Razor off but she felt she just couldn't afford this poor tom to have false hopes about her. She truly *didn't* love him, after all...

T-Bone, however, conserved a grim mood. He knew Razor too well to know the slim kat was just using a stratagem to flee from the pain he was feeling inside right now...

"Yes, yes I did!" - she said cheerfully - "And I didn't do just that! I've defeated MadKat as well!"

"MadKat?" - both toms asked in unison, truly surprised.

Callista proceeded then to explain the details of MadKat's attack and his claims of possession and, thus, control over the actions of Mac and Molly Mange, Chop Shop and Hard Drive. She, however, left out the sudden disappearing of the mystical foe. Razor seemed very interested in the claims of possession.

"It fits... Their actions were way over the top... I mean, they're bad but never before have I seen such fiendish actions from them..."

"I agree." - T-Bone intervened - "Kidnapping school kittens, holding elderly people hostage and the vicious attacks we all suffered from Hard Drive, clearly meant to kill rather than stun... It's just too brutal even for them... If it were Dark Kat or Doctor Viper, I wouldn't be surprised but not some small fry like Chop Shop or Hard Drive. They'd never have the guts to try something like this."

"But Ringtail doesn't think like us. His merging with MadKat must have worsened his already weakened mental condition and turned him into a deranged psychopath who revels in the most sadistic and brutal forms of carnage..."

"It's not Ringtail's fault." - Callista said, eyes boring holes in the ground - "Ringtail has no more fault of bearing MadKat than a stray dog has of bearing ticks... No, the fault is ours... You see, the curse of MadKat began several centuries ago, back in Megalith City..."

Callista closed her eyes, reminiscent. Through the centuries she had acquired great knowledge and she knew of the connection between Khronos and MadKat. By the time Khronos had been completely consumed by the dark powers of the Tome of Time, all she knew was that the Purple Rider Khronos had, once again at the cost of his health, saved the sovereigns of Megalith from yet another powerful servant of the Dark Ones Beneath. It was only later that she found out that the brave Mystical Knight had indeed been the one to conjure up such an evil... Oh, how the Doom Dealers wove intricate webs...

"Fortunately, no one was severely harmed..." - she said after she turned to face Mayor Manx and Commander Feral, still unconscious and lying down on the gravel - "Their vital auras remain intact. They'll be sore in the morning but they'll be alive..."

"Unfortunately, that's more than we can say for the Turbokat... She's way past dead..." - T-Bone lamented as he passed a hand affectionately under the nose cone of the jet.

"Yeah..." - Razor concurred as his eyes also acquired a saddened look. Fate, it seemed, wasn't with him today. To lose two of the things he cared most in his life in one fell swoop was enough for a tom to drown his sorrows in nothing less than a barrel of spirits. He picked up the glovatrix T-Bone had dropped and took off his own, throwing them inside the cabin - "All of the electronic components will have to be replaced... *Months* of work await us..."

"Come on, guys, it's not the first time your jet is scrapped!"

"It's the first time its electronics didn't make it... It's not the welding work that scares me. In fact, that's the least of my problems... It's the fine tuning of all the systems that makes me want to bite my head off!"

"I think I may be able to help you..." - Callista said as she approached the mangled jet - "If I understand it correctly, all you need is to put the jet back the way it was before you were struck by the lightning, right?"

"Pretty much, yes." - said T-Bone, looking intensely at Callista, wondering what was going through her head.

"Stand back a little, please."

They did as they were told. Callista raised her arms slightly over her head. A thin golden aura, only visible to those versed in magic, framed her as each string of her hair was again animated with a colubrine movement. The timbre of her voice fell down an octave, as it usually happened when she chanted the incantations.

"Time is mine to command/ Through ages it flows./ The wrongs it will amend/ As backwards it goes."

The SWAT Kats tensed their muscles in surprise when they saw Callista's hair move as though it had a life of its own. They gaped as a hemisphere of some sort of golden energy enveloped the Turbokat. For a few moments, nothing seemed to happen. Then, all of the sudden sparks started to appear all around the frame of the jet. But they looked different. Instead of bursting out from a point and dispersing in the air, they started from their dispersed positions in the air and rushed back into the jet. In the end, it was like watching a tape playing in reverse. Even the molten bits of the destroyed tail stabilizers seemed to gain life and reshape themselves. In a few minutes, the Turbokat had returned to the shape she had before being struck by Hard Drive's lightning bolts.

"There... I think that does it..." - she turned her head towards the awestruck SWAT Kats - "Care to try it out?"

"H-how..." - Razor started but was cut short by T-Bone's nudge to his ribs.

"Magic, sureshot. Don't try to analyze it."

"I reversed the flow of time within that sphere you saw. Everything went back to the way it was before it was damaged so everything should be in shipshape now."

Her voice had lowered continuously as she talked until the last word was more murmured than spoken. Her strength faltered and she gave in to gravity. Her fall was, however, broken by T-Bone's arms. She lay in the tabby's embrace, her face snuggled over T-Bone's chest, recovering her strength. The tabby affectionately caressed her back as he murmured an inquiry about her wellness. It would have been a completely innocent scene if not for the little green devil poised over Razor's shoulder poisoning his mind and making him see not an innocuous act of courtesy but an unforgivable act of treason...

"Callie, are you all right?" - T-Bone repeated in a soft tone. This time, he managed to yank Callie off her stupor and he stared deeply into those lovely green eyes that made his heart stir - "What happened?"

She muttered a moan - "I must have used more energy than I expected... Making time flow backwards is a very demanding spell, so much so I think this was the first time anyone had attempted it..."

She had already straightened herself up when Razor reached her.

"Are you sure everything is well with you, my Queen?"

"I told you I'm not queen of anything now, Razor..."

"To me you'll always be my beloved sovereign and I will always be your devoted knight." - he knelt before her and bowed his head - "My allegiance lies nowhere else but here."

T-Bone rolled his eyes and grabbed the slim SWAT Kat by the collar of his G-suit, dragging him towards the Turbokat.

"Where can we drop you off, Miss Briggs?" - the burly tom questioned as he popped open the canopy.

"I must stay here with the Mayor and Commander Feral, guys. They'll be jumping all around if they wake up and don't see me here. Thanks for everything, SWAT Kats!"

"What are you thanking us for? *You* saved our hides, not the opposite!" - T-Bone said from the pilot seat before he called his partner to join him in the cabin. Razor jumped aboard and looked towards Callista one last time before he lowered the visor on his helmet. Moments later, the jet hurtled towards Megakat City.

Callista looked towards the leaden skies that threatened to rupture at any time and then she gazed upon the destruction brought upon the wind farm. She sighed.

"Will History repeat itself? Will my presence conjure up more evil? Must I raze yet another city to the ground so that people can live untroubled by those who would see me dead? Oh, Doom Dealers, why will you not allow me to die?"

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The engines whirred down to a sigh as the hydraulic elevator raised the Turbokat to the underground hangar. T-Bone slid the canopy open and jumped down to the ground, landing with a bit of difficulty. No doubt, the effects of Hard Drive's attack were taking their time leaving them. Razor watched his tabby friend with ice-cold eyes as he slowly unstrapped himself from the rear seat.

"I still find it hard to believe that Queen Callista has been hiding this whole time under our very noses and we didn't have the wit to see her deception! Huh, Jake?" - he turned to look at the jet as he took off the helmet and the mask.

Jake remained silent as he jumped down to the ground to land smoothly on all fours. He took off his helmet and bandanna as he proceeded to the locker without a word. When he passed by Chance, the burly tom grasped his arm, making Jake turn and face him.

"What's wrong with you? You've given me nothing but silence and sarcasm ever since we flew off the wind farm."

Jake's eyes narrowed and he let go of the helmet to push Chance aside. The burly tom took two awkward steps behind, surprised.

"You've got a lot of nerve asking me what's wrong. You know very well what's wrong." - Jake hissed.

"What the *hell* are you talking about?"

"YOU'RE TRYING TO TAKE MY SHE-KAT, THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!"

"What?"

"Don't give me that! DON'T YOU DARE TO GIVE ME THAT! I *know* what I saw! Did it feel good, to have my Queen in your arms; to feel the gentle touch of her face against your chest? Did you enjoy the smoothness of her body? DID YOU?"

The tabby couldn't take anymore. He narrowed his eyes and violently pinned the slim kat against the lockers, holding him tightly in place.

"LET ME GO, YOU SON OF A..."

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" - Chance bellowed with the authority that only he could show when he was angry - "Now listen to me! LISTEN TO ME!"

The slim kat reluctantly quieted down and Chance's grip relaxed a bit.

"I've never hid from you the way I feel about Callie. You know I like her, you know how hot I think she is. Yes, I think I *do* love Callie, I think we'd make a lovely couple. Sometimes I even think how nice it would be if the two us got married and had kittens and grew old together."

Jake gritted his teeth in contempt.

"You know all this to be true; I've never hid it from you. But because you know that, you should know that Callie didn't break just one heart today."

The slim kat widened his eyes in both surprise and understanding and stared at Chance.

"Both of us heard *from her mouth* to whom her heart belongs and it's to neither of us. Callista doesn't love you more than Callie loves me. She loves her husband and only her husband."

Chance let go of Jake, who kept looking at the tabby with a surprised expression.

"When I found out that Callie was Callista, I was broken. I knew, then and there, that I had lost all my chances of ever ending up with Callie. I was sure that if Callista loved any of us, it would have to be you. I felt so jealous of you that I more than welcomed the blackness of unconsciousness that came with Hard Drive's attack. At least I wouldn't have to see you two together..."

Chance closed his eyes and lowered his head to his chest.

"But when I came to and saw the two of you holding hands, I felt my heart shrinking. I wanted to be in your place; I didn't want the two of you to be together. But who was I to stop a love like yours? I might as well accept that Callie was gone for good from my life. I might as well embrace the situation and bless your love... But then, she tore both our hearts with her bare hands and squashed them like they were nothing... I knew, there and then, that you had received a fatal blow. From where I stood I couldn't see your face but I know you too well to *know* you were bleeding on the inside."

Chance looked Jake straight in the eye.

"I would have given then anything and everything to take away your pain, Jake. Including letting go of the she-kat I loved."

Jake remained silent for a moment but Chance could see his friend's fortitude diminishing with each passing second. When the slim kat closed his eyes, tears ran freely down his cheeks, although only a subdued sob was heard from him. Chance embraced his friend, who just remained motionless. Jake sobbed quietly, his muzzle muffled by the tabby's chest.

"I'm sorry, brother..." - he managed to say between sobs - "It just hurts so much..."

"I know, Jake... I know..."

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The howl of pain was rapidly swallowed by the thick murkiness of that overcast night. The PastMaster sneered malevolently. The pleasure that torturing this wretched piece of crud brought to him was immeasurable. He'd started his game a few hours ago, when his prey had finally come to. Oh, the look on this miserable sac of meat when he finally recognized his captor and, at long last, realized he wouldn't ever leave that place alive...

"To take back what's rightfully mine, bugger." - he had explained to the terrified tom prior to the process of extricating the totality of his mystical powers. Depriving the poor bastard of his magic prowess was painful enough but the PastMaster simply *wanted* him to suffer a considerable amount of agony before departing from this world. And he knew all the magic forms of unleashing indescribable pain upon those he chose to...

The tom before him was now completely exhausted, a feline rag, so to speak, utterly devoid of any lingering resolve to live. There was no mystic energy left in him save for a small speck that he would promptly lose.

"And with this I take back what has always been mine and clear a mistake that has cost me dearly already." - he rumbled before he tore the final bell on MadKat's cap with his fore claw, sucking in the last of the power used in the jester's creation.

Howling in agony and despair, MadKat slowly expired in a yellowish vapor cloud, leaving only the mangled Lenny Ringtail behind. Ringtail watched, through eyes veiled in an indescribable pain, as a flashing purple light enveloped the skeleton sorcerer for a few moments. When the blinding flash of light was finally gone, the last thing he saw before he met his maker was not the skeletal red face of the PastMaster but a rather attractive, albeit surprised, gray-furred tom dressed in the same clothes as the PastMaster.

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The city woke up to the silvery sunlight as it filtered through the wisps of clouds and the chilling breeze that blew from the sea, announcing yet another autumnal day. Thousands of bustling kats hurried to their jobs filling the roads with interminable lines and granting the great burg its daily cacophony of honk and screech and roar.

It was the middle of the morning already and the gray rooftop of clouds, previously uninterrupted, had begun to rotate, although very few did notice anything. In City Hall, Callista - or was she Callie? - strolled down to her office after making a quick pit-stop at the coffee machine. A mug in her right hand and a bundle of files in her left, she sat at her desk, reclining in her chair and taking a good swig of enlivening coffee before she opened the topmost file, which happened to be on the recent events caused by Mac and Molly Mange. She read there that their bodies had survived the blows they've received - nothing new there. She turned the page and a list of damaged property appeared. She sighed when she looked at the bottom of the table, to the grand total... She turned to the next page, which was a bill granting the necessary funds from the city's Treasury to cope with that crisis. Sighing again, she picked up the pen to sign the bill.

The pen, however, seemed awfully heavy and an oppressing feeling grabbed hold of her. The mystic reverberations she was receiving were overwhelming and yet so familiar! She dropped the pen and reached for the mug but the deafening sound and shockwaves of a tremendous blast threw the recipient to the ground, shattered her office's window and opened several cracks in the sturdy walls. Alarms began to blare and, outside, the sprinklers flared up to life. She clamped her ears with her hands, not to shut down the noise from the alarms but to try to stifle the familiar reverberations that once were no louder than a frail whisper but now tolled like the bells of a cathedral within her mind. She opened her eyes and gritted her teeth in contempt.

So the PastMaster had survived the inferno beneath the ruins of Katchu Pichu, and had just announced his arrival!

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"Talk about a dull morning, partner." - Chance complained as he took a sip of coffee. Jake joined him a moment later atop the pile of metallic litter.

"And this weather isn't helping much either... I'm starting to feel a bit depressed..."

"Hey, you still got me!" - the trademark smirk appeared in the tabby's face.

"Big deal... Who wants a big teddy bear like..."

What Jake saw did indeed have the power to cut his word short. Both toms got up as they stared into the distance. They watched in awe and growing concern the maelstrom of dark clouds opening above Megakat City much like an inverted gigantic tornado. The drop of water that made both toms bolt towards the garage, leaving their coffee recipients crash over the hood of the car they were standing, was the flash of purple lightning hurtling towards Megakat City.

Within minutes, the Turbokat soared on the leaden skies towards the eye of the unusual storm they so well knew. Razor tuned in to the Enforcer's band only to hear shouted orders to converge to City Hall.

"City Hall, buddy. That figures..." - Razor growled - "The PastMaster's after Callista again."

Afterburners flaring, the jet rocketed towards the center of Megakat City.

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Callista had little trouble getting to the top of the building since everyone was trying to get *down*. The stairs led out to the clock tower, where she and Abby had been blasted away by her age-old wannabe boyfriend when he first made his appearance in Megakat City. She opened the door to the small patio bordering the exterior of the clock tower expecting to see the short figure of the skeletal sorcerer but instead she bumped against a large form. For a moment, she looked dazed at his robes, recognizing the attire this stranger wore as the one used by the Purple Company, the elite unit of the Mystical Knights of Megalith.

She took a step back to look up to the tom's face and widened her eyes in shock when she finally recognized the tom in front of her.

"Khronos!" - she gasped. Lightning crossed the sky from behind him, immersing his face in an absolute darkness but for his eye, glowing in a bright yellow.

"You recognize me, my love." - his voice rumbled but not in an irate tone.

Callista was dumbfounded. She never expected to see that familiar face again in her lifetime, much less here, atop the clock tower of City Hall, of all places - "H-how did you regain..."

"I'm as surprised as you are, my dear. But who am I to decline what Fortune so compassionately offered me?" - he smiled, showing Callista his golden watch - "It's past time the two of us get married..."

He grabbed her left wrist and dragged her with him to the rim of the patio, only to be met with the blinding flash of searchlights.

"This is Commander Feral! Surrender at once or we will open fire."

Khronos looked down to the open space in front of City Hall, which was now littered by Enforcer cruisers and tanks and smiled. He looked back at Callista.

"What do you think they'd do if they saw you with me?"

Callista expressed a disgusted face.

"Don't worry. Hostage situations are for lowly scum like MadKat. I'm different. Besides, what fun would it have if they were unable to worship me properly?"

That said, he pointed his watch downward and fired a purple bolt of raw mystical power, sweeping it across the square and detonating every vehicle it touched. A chaotic inferno ensued and all the Commander or any of his Enforcers could do was duck for cover.

"Bring me aerial backup, on the double!" - Feral barked into the communicator.

"Yes, Commander, bring me some toys to play with!"

"You haven't changed a bit in eight hundred years. REMOVE YOURSELF FROM MY PRESENCE!"

She fired off a large blast of golden energy from her right hand that shunted the PastMaster away from her and almost made the sorcerer lose his stand and nearly fall over the rim.

"Kitty's got claws... I *like* that!" - he released bolts of purple energy against her that were promptly fended off with a sturdy shield.

"I grew more powerful than you'll ever know, cur!" - she growled before she quickly chanted a spell that unleashed the power of giant ice needles against the gray-furred tom, impaling him like a roasted boar. Khronos bellowed in pain as the large icicle skewered him from side to side.

"You sick witch..." - he growled as he took off the bloodied icy spear and cast his ever-present regenerating spell - "Have you learned nothing from our past battles?"

Enraged, Khronos aimed the watch at her and was about to fire when he saw Callista jump off the patio, only to be caught, seconds later, in a strange-looking bag-like net. Only then did he hear the roaring of the Turbokat's engines, taking Callista away from him. Full of spite for being crossed yet again by those flying buffoons, he roared out as dozens of purple discharges rained down from the vortex of clouds.

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T-Bone did the best he could to avoid the deadly blasts while Razor reeled Callista in. Only the most magnificent of pilots could have evaded the blasts thrown at them, and luckily, the tabby was amongst the best of them.

"Thanks, guys, but don't you think you're cutting in a little too close?" - she said as she tried to step free from the net. Razor went to her aid.

"We're sorry, Miss Briggs, I mean, Queen Callista, I mean..."

"Miss Briggs will do just fine, T-Bone."

"Who was that guy, anyway?" - Razor queried as he finished removing the net off Callista - "We thought the PastMaster was responsible for that time vortex!"

"It's a long story, guys..."

"Then give us the short version." - T-Bone asked as he banked the jet to his left in order to avoid another of the amethyst rays of energy.

"Okay, you'll have to take what I'll say to you on faith because not even I am sure of how this happened." - Callista took a dramatic pause - "That guy *is* the PastMaster."

Silence reigned for a few moments within the cockpit.

"So, he found his skin again?" - T-Bone remarked, doing a barrel roll in order to avoid becoming impaled into another bright purple bolt.

"Something like that. But I fear that's not the only thing he's found again."

"Yeah, he's stronger, I got that too." - Razor said as he headed towards his seat.

"The PastMaster wasn't always the dwarfish red skeleton you knew. A long time ago, eight hundred years ago, to be precise, he was one of the most powerful sorcerers of Megalith City, Sir Alexander Khronos. The short version, as you asked, T-Bone, is that he was a knight at my service - and a good one at that - and he fell in love with me. Out of that maddened love, he assassinated all his comrades, his master and his king, my husband. Because of that, I sought to kill him but, instead, I merely turned him into the skeletal figure of the PastMaster that you know."

"That explains a lot. The PastMaster finally realized you were Callista of Megalith and in the name of that ancient love he wanted to force you into marrying him." - Razor growled his next words - "Disgusting little creep."

"Somehow he must have found a way to restore his old power and, with it, he must have somehow gained the power to restore his old appearance as well. You must be careful, SWAT Kats! Khronos is to the PastMaster like an elephant is to an ant." - she added the next words in a mutter - "And he's vastly beyond your own power..."

T-Bone flew them down in order to leave Callista with Feral. All of that took only a few minutes before the jet hurtled back towards the top of City Hall. Callista watched in apprehension as the black jet bolted upwards.

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"Commander, you must withdraw. You're seriously outclassed here. I'm not sure if even the SWAT Kats can do anything about this enemy. I fear for all your lives if you stay near."

"Don't worry, Miss Briggs. We're prepared..."

"You're prepared? Commander, your vehicles were torn asunder by *a single bolt* from him! You do *not* have the power to subdue him! I'm not sure if even the SWAT Kats have that kind of power! If you send your jets against him, your pilots will need much more than nine lives to stand a chance against Khronos."

"Khronos?"

Callista pursed her lips for a moment like a kitten caught red-handed.

"Please, Commander. I don't want you or anyone else to die here today! You must fall back!"

The Commander closed his eyes before he retorted - "Miss Briggs, you seem to know a lot more than you say. But let me tell you this: even if our defeat were certain, it'd still be my job to protect you and everyone else in this city. I can't do what you ask."

"I knew you'd answer that... You've always been a good and loyal soldier... But this is a fight you can't win. I'm sorry, Commander." - she raised her arms and chanted - "Both time and space/ My want concede./ To other place/ You will recede."

A golden aura enveloped every kat present in the square, only to disappear a moment later, along with the kats it enclosed. She fell down on her knees, slightly worn out from the difficult spell. But her work was not yet done. Next, she raised a barrier around the perimeter she had just cleared. Her intent was obvious: the battle shouldn't be interrupted. She hoped that, by the time Feral could regroup, all would be finished.

She turned her head heavenwards and watched as the slick black jet masterly eluded the incoming amethyst rays and fired off a volley of Turboblades towards Khronos.

The sorcerer barely had time to cast one of his trademarked spells, creating a bubble around him in which walls time quickened its pace. Remembering the trouble he had eight centuries ago with the spears thrown at him by the Royal Guard of King deManx, he intensified the spell. It was much to his surprise that the incoming projectiles turned into nothing more than rust in less than a second. He looked at his hands in confusion.

"I have no idea why I returned to my feline self but it appears the energy I took from MadKat had something to do with it." - he thought as he watched the black jet come around for another shot at him - "Apparently, if I hadn't created MadKat back then, I could have beaten Callista and wouldn't have turned into a meager red skeleton... Well, good for me, bad for *them*!"

From the Turbokat's bomb bay, several Match-Head Missiles were launched against the gray-furred sorcerer, who just restored the time-quickening barrier and, just like it had happened with the Turboblades, the missiles exploded in a burst of rust as soon as they contacted with the mystic wall.

"*My* turn!" - Khronos sardonically said before he aimed his watch at the jet and fired a volley of purple bolts of energy that T-Bone expertly avoided.

Aboard the Turbokat, the moods were grim. T-Bone pushed the control stick towards him and led the Turbokat in a vertical climb above the rooftop of clouds. He soon regretted doing that when several purple rays broke from the clouds beneath and grazed the jet's frame.

"We can't evade him forever, buddy! What are we going to do?"

"I've analyzed the footage from the off-board camera and discovered that our missiles didn't actually explode. They just rusted away."

"Rusted? How? They're all brand new!"

"Yeah, I know... My guess is that he's casting some sort of time-quickening spell."

T-Bone nodded, grasping what Razor was telling him - "Turning the metal into rust and the plastic into dust... Crud, what *can* we do, Razor?"

"I can only see one way. We'll have to use the Megalaser."

"Will that work against his barrier?"

"I don't see why it shouldn't. A laser is just concentrated light, photons arranged in a beam. And photons don't decay! If anything, it might even accelerate the laser."

"It's worth a... Hey!" - T-Bone could barely avoid the jet being impaled by one of the amethyst beams - "That was too close, pal. We have to sneak up on him in order to have a chance."

"Roger that. Turning on Dimensional Radar."

"There you are..."

The black jet hurtled downwards, towards the city limits, from where Khronos could not see them approaching. The sorcerer stopped firing energy blasts. He reasoned it was a pointless depletion of his energy. He'd have to see them to hit them. The gray-furred tom looked all around him but his foes were nowhere in sight. All he could see was the gray skies and all he could hear was the wailing wind.

"Where are you, you wretched heroes..."

He blinked once, seemingly surprised by his *own* words. Since when had *he* become the villain? His ears flicked as he picked up a sound that wasn't there a moment before. It seemed like a roar in the distance but getting increasingly louder. He widened his eyes and turned to face the clock tower, the direction from where the sound appeared to be coming from, but, as he did, the clock tower itself exploded in his face right before the most powerful jolt he'd ever felt hit his body, hurling the helpless sorcerer off the patio of the clock tower and down to the lobby of one of the buildings just across City Hall.

The impact was exceedingly violent and the explosion that followed was none the smaller. The ground and first floors were almost completely obliterated and the rest of the building teetered unstably over its destroyed base. Moments later, the rest of the five-story high construction collapsed in on itself, burying Khronos in tons of debris.

Razor and T-Bone cheered for their victory but such commemoration wasn't meant to last long. An explosion of debris and purple energy tossed rubble in every direction, damaging the adjacent buildings violently and hitting the Turbokat a number of times. Completely awe-struck, the SWAT Kats watched as Khronos appeared in the center of the pile of rubble apparently unscathed. Rage, however, burned with a fiery intensity in the sorcerer's eye as he aimed his watch at the jet and fired torrent after torrent of raw mystical energy. The blasts were so powerful that even just the only ray that grazed the left wing completely obliterated it, sending the Turbokat into an uncontrolled nose-dive. But Khronos had other plans for the SWAT Kats. He wouldn't let gravity finish them, no. He wanted to have that pleasure. So he aimed his watch at the helpless falling fighter plane again and fired another blast that hit the fuel tanks of the mangled jet, igniting their contents instantly and causing an explosion that lit the dull morning of Megakat City.

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The silence was the first thing he noticed. The silence and the quietude. He felt like floating in the air.

"Am I dead?"

It was strange. Nothing hurt but he couldn't feel anything as well.

"This must be death."

He didn't really want to open his eyes, afraid that, should the blessing serenity he was experiencing be a dream, he'd wake up.

"I must be dead."

Then, for the first time, he mustered enough will to slowly open his eyes. He smiled. He was dreaming after all. Still dreaming. The first that he found out was that everything seemed painted in orange. Then as he focused his eyes, he discerned other things. Pieces of translucent glass. Black, red and blue retorted pieces of metal. Pieces of leather. All frozen in mid-air like someone had hit the "pause" button on a media player.

Nothing made any sense.

He looked down on himself. He was wearing his G-suit and although he searched thoroughly, he didn't find a scratch on him. He looked onward and saw T-Bone sitting in a seat almost completely engulfed by what seemed motionless orange flames. The tabby looked back at him with an inquisitive look on his face.

"Are we dead?" - T-Bone asked.

"T-Bone! Razor!" - they heard a female voice call them from afar. They looked everywhere but couldn't locate the source of the sound.

"Wasn't that..."

"Queen Callista! She must be using some sort of spell..."

Her petite figure came from within the frozen flames as though coming from behind a curtain. She took each tom in her hands and led them towards the engulfing still flames.

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Khronos partially covered his face from the fiery explosion of the Turbokat. He grinned as the jet hit the ground and exploded in yet another fireball that rose towards the skies.

"Worthless maggots! None can withstand the overwhelming might of Khronos!" - he laughed - "Now that I'm done with these pests, nothing shall interpose between me and my bride..."

"I wouldn't bet on that, old-timer." - Razor's voice hovered above the crackling of the flames.

"Yeah, we haven't even begun to fight!"

Khronos watched, astounded, as the SWAT Kats emerged from the inferno he'd just served them, completely unhurt. Only then did he notice Callista behind them, trying to catch her breath. He narrowed his eye, understanding dawning on him. He reasoned that she must have used a spell to stop time long enough to rescue the SWAT Kats.

"The same spell Sir Astor used to prevent my husband from dying with an arrow sticking from his head, Khronos..." - she said as though she could hear his thoughts.

Amazing, he thought. Not only had she become proficient in the use of magic but she had also mastered the elemental spells... Time included... That was remarkable, considering she never had the aid of the Tome of Time... But, then again, she was unaware of the dark and powerful time-related spells that he knew... And she would soon learn that he hadn't lain idly over the past eight hundred years...

Khronos drew steel and positioned his sword upside down as he chanted a spell. When he finished, he pierced the rubble with the tip of the sword and a swirling torrent of fire rushed towards the trio. The SWAT Kats immediately deployed their shields as Callista raised one of her own. The attack had been successfully averted but Callista was flabbergasted.

"That was Pyros' Fire Rivulet!" - she exclaimed as she undid the protective barrier.

"And that's not the only thing I can do with this, my dear!" - he said as he swung the sword in a broad horizontal arc.

She ordered them to duck and only a moment later the lamp post behind them was hit by an invisible blast and barely missed them when it fell to the ground. Callista swiftly inspected the polished surface and discovered it had been cut, not broken.

"Eolos' Wind Scythe! He managed to learn his comrades' spells!"

Khronos rammed down the edge of his sword on the ground and a rift started to open towards them. She cast a spell that allowed her to float in the air while both SWAT Kats dexterously jumped above the gaping crack. She was astounded. He'd even learned Telluros' earthquake! She watched as Razor and T-Bone fired a volley of Mini Turboblades towards the sorcerer. Khronos defended them with his sword and his watch, which served as a small shield. He struck them again with the Wind Scythe and both SWAT Kats had to deploy their shields in order to protect themselves. The agrecite shields held nicely, although they had to take a couple of awkward steps back, such had been the force behind the attack.

"T-Bone! Razor! You need help to defeat him. Take these!" - a couple of long swords materialized in their free hands.

"Hum, I don't think this will be of much help to me, Callie..." - T-Bone said as he watched doubtfully the long piece of metal in his hand - "Don't you have something smaller like a dagger or something? *That* I know how to use..."

"A sword is just like a dagger, buddy, only longer." - Razor taunted as he attacked Khronos. T-Bone shrugged and joined the fray.

Hack and slash. Metal clashing against metal. Shields splintering. Sparkle and clangor. It was both a song and a dance that Khronos hadn't heard or swayed to for a long, long time. The SWAT Kats' attacks were fierce, full of the energy of the youth. They made him actually give some ground to them.

Slash. Defend. Open guard to disarm. Close guard. Jump. Hack. Land. Rotate. Slash. Shield.

The deadly dance continued and Khronos had spotted at least a dozen weak spots for each SWAT Kat. Their blows were strong, especially those from the brawny one but they lacked strategy and experience. He smiled. They'd be fine with their swords if they had the time to practice. But time was *not* on their side...

Khronos jumped high in the air and hurled his sword towards the burly tom. The projectile impacted where T-Bone had stood just a second ago burying its tip into the street. The tabby lost his stand and fell over his tail. Khronos landed and ducked to avoid being decapitated by Razor's horizontal slash. Taking advantage of his position, Khronos flexed his legs and straightened himself up to deliver a jarring punch with his watch to the slim kat's muzzle, which made Razor fly back and meet the floor with his back. Khronos dashed over to his sword and somersaulted over it, picking it up when he was upside down and using the pent up force of the rotation to hack down on T-Bone, who just had time to raise his shield to defend the incoming slash. Somersaulting back to avoid being impaled by Razor's thrust, he landed just in time to block the slim kat's backslash. T-Bone came from the other side, intent on slashing down on the sorcerer's head but getting expertly blocked by Khronos' watch. The gray-furred warrior let himself fall on his back and rolled to a stand, which made the SWAT Kats lose their stands and bury the tips of their swords in the ground. With a kick and a powerful punch, Khronos made his foes roll on the ground and with a couple of well aimed shots, destroyed their swords.

"Stand up. This is only beginning." - he taunted them.

"We know..." - Razor said before he was launched by his burly partner high up into the air.

Khronos watched the slim kat ascend but in doing so he took his eyes off T-Bone. The burly SWAT Kat seized the occasion and punched Khronos in the face with all the might he had. The sorcerer fell back over his tail and while he was trying to get up, Razor fell down knee first on his gut, emptying the sorcerer's stomach contents, as well as large gobs of blood.

"You see? We were just warming up." - T-Bone taunted. Razor regrouped as Khronos tried to get to his feet, vomiting some more blood in the process.

"Bastards... You will pay for touching me..." - he hissed in fury before he fired a torrent of mystical raw energy against the SWAT kats, who just had time to jump off the way. The torrent was then headed for Callista, who barely had time to raise a protective barrier.

Razor was still lying on the ground when he felt Khronos' foot on his gut and then on his face. Blood spurted in an arc from the slim kat's muzzle as he lay dazed on the ground. The tabby was already up when Khronos appeared next to him. He kicked the back of T-Bone's legs, making the tom kneel violently. Grabbing the tabby by the back of his head, he forced his head down to the ground, where it impacted with an unprecedented violence.

"Get up! I don't need magic to gut the lot of you!"

The SWAT Kats groggily got to their feet and cleaned the blood oozing down their nostrils. They adopted defensive stances as they gritted their teeth. There was simply *no way* this piece of crud was going to beat them.

T-Bone attacked first, running towards Khronos, who just waited for him. T-Bone jumped in the air, ready to deliver a flying kick to the sorcerer's chest when Razor dashed from under T-Bone and kicked Khronos in the face before letting his body fall down to the ground in order to allow T-Bone to deliver his kick. Khronos was thrown back flying until he was stopped by the wall of the adjacent building.

The sorcerer fell down on all fours, shaking his head. He'd underestimated the unconventional fighting technique the SWAT Kats used. He hadn't seen anything like it in his time. He roared out in rage as he tensed his muscles.

Callista watched the battle with unbridled attention. From the sneak peeks she was able to get of the Mystical Knights sparring lessons, she knew Khronos was impressively built and was almost as strong as Pyros. T-Bone looked a bit like Pyros but she never before had been able to appreciate the tabby's build, so she wasn't sure what to expect from this match. Eolos looked much like Razor but she was surprised with the strength and agility of the SWAT Kat. Never had Eolos displayed such a fine form as Razor.

Again, the SWAT Kats attacked as a unit but Khronos seemed ready this time. At least, he was able to defend Razor's blow but when it came to the sheer force behind T-Bone's strikes, there was little he could do. Thrown once again to the ground, he decided that enough was enough. Physical prowess or not, the SWAT Kats were going down!

Khronos fired a purple bolt against the ground, obliterating a large portion of the street and causing a shower of debris. The SWAT Kats deployed their shields and hid behind them. Exactly what he expected them to do. He darted towards the SWAT Kats, got behind them and fired a torrent of mystical energy towards them.

Only in the last second did the SWAT Kats realize their foe was behind them and turned around in an attempt to fend off the incoming assault. That probably saved their lives, for the onslaught they received flung them against the adjacent building with tremendous force. The impact was strong enough to knock their helmets off their heads before they fell limply on the ground. The helmets rolled away towards the incoming Khronos, who used a foot to stop the motion of one of them, crushing it beneath his boot in the next moment as the other one rolled him by.

The SWAT Kats were still standing on all fours, trying to shake off the dizziness when they felt two powerful hands grab them by their hair, over their masks, and lift them nonchalantly. They roared off the pain before each of them, as though combined by some sort of mental link, drew their fists and turned around to punch Khronos in the face. The blow was so strong that Khronos was hurled backwards a couple of yards, where he fell on the ground tail-first.

When the gray-furred warrior opened his eyes he felt something smooth in his hands. Looking down at them, he saw two black pieces of cloth. He then looked up towards the SWAT Kats and noticed there was something different about them. Then he realized he had just taken their masks off. That surprise, however, was nothing compared to what he saw when he focused his sight. His heart couldn't believe what his eyes showed him! After all that time, after eight hundred years, the Kats Above had granted him his wish! He managed to see his friends again.

"Pyros! Eolos! You survived! My friends, you survived!" - he said as he picked himself up. Khronos was jubilant. He took a few steps forward, dropping the masks to the ground and preparing himself to embrace his friends. However, he soon stopped dead in his tracks.

"Wait, why are you still fighting against me, my friends? Megalith is no more! King deManx is dead, I saw to it myself! There's nothing left for you to fight so why do you continue to oppose me?" - he widened his eyes suddenly as though a pail of icy water had been dropped over him - "Or is this..."

He narrowed his eyes and showed his fangs in contempt.

"How *dare* you? HOW DARE YOU!"

He fired two bolts from his watch that sent the SWAT Kats hurtling back against the wall they'd impacted not five minutes before.

"This is low even for you... How dare you use the faces of my friends to defeat me? Cease this disgusting spell at once or *I* will!"

"What the hell is he talking about?" - T-Bone asked as he tried to get up.

"Beats me..."

An unfortunate choice of words for Khronos did indeed beat them again and again, lost in the embers of his madness. It was true that Chance and Jake shared similar features with Pyros and Eolos but there was no known affinity to the latter. But Khronos did not know that and neither did he care. So, using his time-quickening spell, he would have quite literally massacred the SWAT Kats to death if not for Callista's intervention.

"Remember who you're fighting, cur!"

"I'm fighting the lackeys of your highness, Queen Callista, who so cowardly lent them the faces of my beloved friends so I'd be coerced to give in." - he snarled in contempt - "That was a *very* low blow, Callista!"

"Lower than the murdering of your friends, your master and your KING?"

"Do not accuse me of treason, my Queen! It was not I that razed Megalith City to the ground and condemned generation after generation to bitter hardship."

"All of this can be laid down on your doorstep."

"Why don't you embrace your future as my wife, Callista? Look at all the pain you've brought upon your subjects because of this sick desire for freedom!"

She looked at the battered, bruised and bloodied bodies of her heroes, struggling to remain conscious.

"Sick? If I am sick for desiring freedom then I surely hope there is no cure for me. But no, it isn't I who is sick, *PastMaster*. No. The only sick person here is you and I'd like you to regard me as *your* cure."

She fired off a ball of golden energy that Khronos promptly returned to her. She had only time to raise a weak shield that barely protected her at all, so she was thrown back by the energy she herself had conjured. But she did not fall to the ground. Instead, she found herself in the arms of Khronos, who had used his time-quickening spell to get behind Callista.

"Don't touch me, you *slime*!" - she struggled to free herself from the tom's tight grip but she was no match for a seasoned warrior. Khronos immobilized her in mere moments. Callista understood that it was useless to fight Khronos physically, so she resorted to her ultimate weapon.

"You leave me no choice. TOUCH OF DESTINY!"

Once again, she unleashed the power of her ultimate mystical onslaught over Khronos. Callista took the warrior's hands in hers and gripped tightly. Sparks snaked around their bodies as her eyes glowed brightly and her hair seemed imprisoned in an invisible eddy of furious winds. Her voice was so fell and terrible that even the light seemed to wane. Gale force winds punished the battered bodies of the SWAT Kats, who tried their best to protect themselves from the flogging winds. For the first time, Razor felt an unnatural fear of Callista.

The queen finished her chanting and looked triumphantly at Khronos, ready to watch the miserable assassin shrivel into nothing but a rotten clump of meat. Her surprise was great when she realized Khronos was smiling broadly. In just a few moments, the winds quieted down and the sparks stopped completely. She couldn't believe in her eyes. Khronos was unscathed! The Touch of Destiny, her most powerful mystical attack, had failed!

Khronos broke out in a fit of maniacal laughter - "How amusing you are, my Queen! You've grown powerful and wise in these eight centuries and yet, for all your power and wisdom, you lack the wit to see that the Touch of Destiny cannot be cast again *while it's still in use*?"

"W-what do you mean?" - she asked, truly frightened now.

"You mean to tell me that you truly do not know this?" - Khronos seemed a bit surprised but soon regained his condescending manner - "Ah, let me savor this moment... Sir Astor's favorite doesn't actually know what went wrong with her pathetic little spell... Oh, Callista, if only you knew the destruction *my* ultimate mystical onslaught can bring about..."

"Unhand me..." - she ordered but not in a very convincing manner. Khronos continued as though she had said nothing.

"Combining spells can sometimes have disturbing aftereffects. Your ultimate mystical onslaught uses your life force to turn your foe into a pile of rotting remains, thus ending both yours and your enemy's lives. My regenerating spell allows my life force to rebuild my body by accelerating the healing processes that allow us to recover from injury. The combination of both spells resulted in me turning into a living skeleton, since your spell did turn the rest of my body into a decaying carcass but my spell allowed me to keep on living. Even so, you were the luckiest of us for you conserved your youth. The reason you can't die is because our lives are connected! Unless your spell is completed or my regenerating spell ceases, neither of us can die!"

Callista was shocked. The reason for her unnatural long life had finally been revealed and it fell like a bomb. Her eyes glazed over. The shock of that revelation had just been too much. She simply lay in Khronos' arms, unable to make a decision as simple as attack or flee.

"Now, Callista, what do you say? We both still live because the Doom Dealers intertwined the strings of our fates. Is it not a clear sign that you're meant to be with no one else but me?" - he looked at her unmoving eyes - "Maybe this will rekindle your desire."

Khronos approached his lips to Callista's as he supported her head with a hand. Softly at first, he touched her lips and kissed her deeply. Callista didn't make a move.

Razor widened his eyes as he saw Khronos kissing Callista. Moved by blind love and rage, he found the strength to pick himself up and run towards the couple, roaring out in maddened fury.

Khronos watched out of the corner of his eye the approach of the slim kat. He broke the kiss in the last moment and, tossing Callista aside, he unsheathed his sword and swished it across Razor's midsection. A large burst of blood gushed into the air and splashed down on the ground.

Razor's vision lost its focus for a moment. He looked down only to see a large bleeding gash in his midsection. The next thing he felt was a powerful blow to his chest that sent him flying back against the wall, where he crashed. He looked down to his gut again and saw what seemed to be a large snake starting to protrude from that area. He quickly covered that area with his hand, trying to keep his intestines inside his body.

Callista regained her sanity after she felt the hard stomp of the cold concrete of the adjacent building's wall on her cheek. She woke up from her stupor just in time to watch Razor being punched in the chest. She gasped in terror as a large quantity of blood flew off Razor's abdomen before he crashed on the wall. She realized then that the slim kat was going to die unless she did something fast. But what? She couldn't use her most powerful spell and Khronos surely was able to repel any other attack she launched upon him. After a moment of hesitation, she frantically searched the convolutions of her golden locks, hoping beyond any hope to find one of the needles she used to keep her long hair in place. The sharp stabbing pain told her she had found her target.

T-Bone staggered towards Razor and knelt beside the slim kat, who was nearly hyperventilating and sweating profusely. The tabby noticed his friend's skin under his fur was rapidly becoming pale. His intestines were just a little more than a membrane away from spilling out to the ground. The slim kat surely wouldn't last much longer and there was little he could do to help his friend. T-Bone quickly tore both sleeves off of Razor's G-suit, tied them together and wrapped them around Razor's waist in an attempt to close the bleeding gash and give some comfort to his friend.

The tabby picked himself up and turned to face Khronos when another drama got his attention. He watched as Callista took the long needle in her hand and stabbed her own breast with it, releasing a muffled exclamation of pain. T-Bone mouthed a silent and flabbergasted "no", the only response he could give in his shocked and powerless state. Khronos, seeing the burly tom's looks, quickly turned around but it was already too late. Callista had fallen to the ground with the long thick needle riveted deeply in herself.

T-Bone's pupils contracted so much by the sheer horror of it all that they became nothing but tiny dots. His teeth were so tightly clenched with hatred that a thread of blood dripped down the side of his mouth.

"YOU BASTARD! MESS WITH ME ALL YOU WANT BUT HURTING MY BROTHER AND MY LOVE WILL GET YOU KILLED!"

Before Khronos had any time to react either to Callista's fall or to the tabby's challenge, T-Bone lunged towards Khronos. Both toms rolled on the ground entwined in each other. The tabby managed to remain on top and punched the gray-furred warrior on the face time and time again before Khronos managed to put a foot on the tabby's midsection and kick him off himself.

"You think you have any chance against me? Be gone from my way, mongrel, for I must attend to my Queen!"

"Over my dead body!" - the tabby growled as he ripped his upper G-suit off and tensed his powerful muscles, ready for the combat.

"So be it! I have too little time to waste on the likes of you but I see that only by killing you I can save my Queen."

Both toms circled each other, waiting for the right time to attack. Khronos attacked first but T-Bone easily dodged his attack and hit the sorcerer's back with his elbow, making the ancient warrior gasp saliva and blood. Wasting no time, T-Bone smacked both hands against Khronos' ears when he turned to attack the tabby. That dazed the sorcerer long enough for T-Bone to deliver a powerful blow with his elbow to the side of Khronos' head that made the sorcerer go down in a swirl. Khronos was still on all fours when T-Bone prepared to kick him in the gut but this time, the gray-furred warrior managed to grab the tabby's foot and bolted upwards, delivering a jarring uppercut to T-Bone's chin that made the brawny tom fly and fall on his back.

Khronos spat a broken tooth and a bit of blood as he waited for T-Bone to get up. The tabby cleaned the trickle of blood running down his chin with the back of his hand. Much to Khronos' surprise, he pointed towards his abdomen.

"Come on! One right here!"

Khronos was only too happy to oblige. The impact was tremendous but the tabby didn't even flinch. He grinned down on the surprised sorcerer and chopped down with his hands on both sides of the warrior's neck, nearly breaking his clavicles. Khronos knelt down in pain and his muzzle promptly connected with T-Bone's upward rushing knee. The impact elicited large spurts of blood from Khronos' mouth while he was flying backwards towards the ground. But T-Bone didn't stop there. He had jumped high in the air and had rushed down to fall knee first with all his might on Khronos' head. The sickening sound of breaking bones filled the air for a moment. Breathing intensely, T-Bone staggered back a couple of steps and tried to regain his breath.

For a fleeting moment, T-Bone thought that Khronos was finished. After all, no tom could survive with his skull broken in pieces. So it was a terrified T-Bone that witnessed what he thought was a dead body rising again. Khronos' face was nothing more than bloody pulp, worthy of the worst nightmares a feline mind could conjure but it soon began to mend itself, restoring the broken bones, refilling the torn muscles and recovering the damaged skin and fur. In a few moments, the gray-furred warrior was as good as new.

"Do you understand now? I cannot be defeated!" - Khronos drew steel and prepared for the slaughter.

In the meantime, Jake had dragged himself towards the still form of Callista, much like a maggot would do. Each movement he made hurt as though fine daggers riveted in his gut but T-Bone's patchwork of the slim kat seemed to be holding Razor's life. He watched her closely as he embraced her, tears running down his eyes. He had been unable to protect her. He had failed not only in his duty as a hero but also as a tom in love.

Although he did not condone her attitude, he knew why she tried to kill herself. Both he and T-Bone had reached the same conclusion, although none of them was even slightly versed in the arts of magic. If her spell used her life force to kill the opponent and if the spell was interrupted by Khronos regenerating spell, this would lead to one of two possible results: either Khronos would somehow be finally killed by Callista's spell, putting an end to her life as well, or Callista could put an end to her life, thus consummating her spell and effectively killing Khronos. Either way, she had figured out she'd die anyway...

"The fee hasn't been collected yet..." - she wheezed out, startling Razor - "The fee... Collect the fee... Collect... The fee..."

Callista passed out but Razor could still feel her heartbeat and her breathing. Both very weak but both still there. She wasn't dead yet and that's why Khronos was still alive and massacring T-Bone.

Khronos swished his sword in a broad horizontal slash that T-Bone had to jump back in order to avoid. He searched for something he could use as a weapon but unfortunately, the sorcerer had destroyed the swords Callista had given them.

"Callista. She killed herself to rid us of this monster! So why isn't he dead already?"

He looked back at where Callista and Razor were. He had her in his arms.

"RAZOR! WHY?" - he bellowed as the gray-furred warrior finally managed to slash T-Bone's arm, drawing blood. Razor didn't answer him but he didn't have to. If Khronos was alive then it was sure that Callista was still alive as well. The needle mustn't have entered the heart correctly or perhaps it missed the heart entirely... Something had gone wrong. Callista was taking too much time to die and Khronos was getting fiercer with each passing moment. He shivered with the dark intensity of his own thoughts and the unthinkable words he was going to utter next...

"YOU MUST KILL HER!" - he bellowed before the fist-cupped hilt of Khronos' sword came crashing down on T-Bone's jaw, breaking it. T-Bone let out a loud exclamation of pain and landed on all fours.

Razor watched the horrible battle that occurred in front of his eyes. T-Bone, it seemed, was exhausted and bleeding, his will to keep fighting wavering and on the brink of extinction. The WSO looked down at the pale face of his beloved Callista. He knew he had to kill her or all would be lost. Tears streamed down his facial fur as his shaking hands slowly assumed their positions on both sides of Callista's head. For the longest moment, he remained motionless, trying to build up the necessary courage to perform the nefarious deed, only to release her head with a disgusted expression plastered in his face. He just couldn't bring himself to kill the one he loved so dearly. His humid eyes stared back at his partner, who was battling a vastly superior foe and practically defeated already. If he didn't act soon, then T-Bone would surely die. He closed his eyes in despair. The most important kats in his life and both their lives were in his hands.

Khronos kicked T-Bone in the gut, which made the tabby roll over and vomit some blood. The sorcerer grasped T-Bone's throat and lifted him up as though he was but a ragdoll. The compression around the tabby's throat was firm but not enough to kill him. T-Bone gripped Khronos' arms trying to pry them off his neck but to no avail.

"I have to break free! He's going to kill them if I don't break free! I *have* to free myself! I HAVE TO!" - the tabby distraughtly thought as he bared his fangs as best his broken jaw allowed him and closed his eyes in his effort to escape the death grip of the sorcerer.

"You actually believed you could keep me away from my beloved Callista. But now you'll learn that *nothing* crosses the path I've designed for us."

Razor watched helplessly as that horrific scene unfolded. His mind, clouded by terror, rendered him unable to make the dreadful decision. T-Bone desperately struggled to burst free from the vice-like grip of Khronos but to no avail. The warrior was too strong and the tabby barely had any strength left in his mangled body. T-Bone was still trying to free himself when he gasped as he felt the most horrible of pains shooting up his body. The tabby looked down and discovered that Khronos had thrust his sword upward across his torso. The sharp piece of metal had entered him from his lower midsection and had come out from his upper back. Intestines, liver, heart and lungs, all of them were mercilessly pierced.

Razor gasped too as he widened his eyes in terror and disbelief when he saw the bloodied tip of the sword protruding from the tabby's back. He opened his mouth to mutter a silent negative as heavy tears rolled unheeded down his facial fur.

T-Bone closed his eyes as he gasped out his pain, only to suddenly open them wide and roar in agony when Khronos twisted the sword inside the tabby's body, shredding his innards and making him vomit blood over Khronos' arm and chest.

Razor's heart was crushed to nothingness when he heard those unnamable sounds, when he realized T-Bone was being brutally and sadistically murdered right in front of him. He closed his eyes as he cried in an unabashedly notwithstanding silent fashion. Never before had the slim kat felt so helpless...

"Chance..." - he groaned in the voice full of despair and pain the tight knot that had formed in his throat allowed him - "No, Chance... Not you... Not *you*!"

But Khronos wasn't done yet. He was not content by simply skewering and gutting T-Bone. He looked up, to the eyes of the burly SWAT Kat, fogged by the horrible pain his tormentor was serving him. A constant trickle of blood dripped from his broken hanging mouth. The gray-furred warrior smiled before he snapped the bones in the tabby's neck with a single soft swing of his powerful and expert hand, killing the SWAT Kat instantly. T-Bone's eyes glazed over as his head hung limply towards his back.

Razor cringed, terrified, at the horrible sound of snapping bones that rose from his tormented partner, effectively ending his friend's ordeal in a definite and horrendous manner. Impossible as he thought it to be, his heart fell down to a whole new level of pain and misery.

Khronos smiled lewdly at the dead face of T-Bone and, moments later, he withdrew his sword from the tabby's corpse and tossed him away like garbage. The tabby's body fell heavily on the ground and soon a large pool of blood formed underneath him.

Khronos bent down to grab a piece of T-Bone's torn G-suit to clean the blood off his sword when he realized Callista was in the arms of Razor.

"HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY BRIDE, YOU FILTHY WHORESON?" - Khronos bellowed as he headed with decisive and firm steps towards Razor.

The slim kat was nearly in shock after witnessing his friend's violent death. He knew what he had to do but he dared not to. He loved Callista too much. He loved her too much to simply kill her in cold blood. But he also loved her too much to let her endure not only a lifetime but an eternity of agony at Khronos' side. His heart ached as he grabbed Callista's head in that position he had learned by heart so many years ago when he was still just an Enforcer. Even with Khronos only scant yards away from him and closing, intent on murdering him perhaps in even a more horrendous fashion than T-Bone's, he still felt the overwhelming hesitation ordering his trembling hands to unhand her love's tender golden locks. He sobbed as he rested his lips against her warm forehead, in a gentle but passionate kiss that only had the power to enrage Khronos even more. He looked through the corner of his eye to the hematic corpse of the tom he called his brother lying in a pool of blood not twenty feet away from him and closed his eyes, forcing out the bitter tears.

"Forgive me, my love." - he whispered to Callista in a silent sob.

He snapped her head to the side, breaking the bones in her neck and killing her immediately.

"*NO*! YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS WITH YOUR LIFE, YOU MISERAB..."

Khronos' mouth was the first part to decay and fall down as a putrid drop. Then his legs gave way, as did his arms, all turning into a putrescent mass. His torso was next and then his head. The last organ that remained was Khronos' only eye, which still stared at Razor for a moment before melting into a pool of filth.

It was done...

The world was finally free of that ancient evil... PastMaster, Khronos... None of them existed anymore...

Summoning whatever resolve and strength he still had left in his body and soul, Razor got up to his feet with Callista in his arms and slowly staggered towards the corpse of his friend as blood dripped from him with every awkward step he took. When he reached his friend's body, he knelt down and leaned Callista against his trunk as he dragged T-Bone towards him, also leaning his friend over his chest. There Razor lay, leaning against the remains of an Enforcer tank and with the remains of the two kats that meant the world to him resting against each side of his chest. He embraced each of them with an arm, soulfully.

Razor looked down to the unseeing eyes of his best friend. The tabby was growing somewhat cold already. He caressed the burly tom's cheek as the mask of grief plastered in his face all but intensified. The slim kat sobbed violently as the harsh reality sank in his mind, that he'd never see Chance again. He placed a kiss on the tabby's forehead, affectionately, before he closed T-Bone's eyes. Crushed, he rested his cheek atop the burly tom's head and cried openly.

Rain had, in the meantime, started to fall from the leaden heavens, mingling with the bitter tears of the sole survivor of the bloodiest mystical battle Megakat City had ever witnessed. His stare shifted from his dead friend to his dead love. She seemed so pale! With heart-wrenching agony tying a tight knot in his throat, his lips brushed hers in a posthumous homage to his love, a silent kiss of bitter farewell. But the pain could not be contained anymore and he roared it out to the falling rain in anguish and despair unparalleled.

---------------S----------W----------A----------T---------------K----------a----------t----------s--------

Dr. Abby Sinian's eyes were not gleaming anymore. Rather she was crying openly in mourn for her friends that died in order to vanquish an evil far superior to their combined strengths. She thought about the broken Razor.

Thanks to his partner, the SWAT Kat had survived long enough to be admitted into a hospital and, after his wounds had been attended, to narrate to Commander Feral the horrid events apropos what she would call the Fourth Mystical Battle of Megalith. However, he disappeared soon after his testimony. Even injured, she reckoned no hospital - nor prison - could hold down the SWAT Kat. Yet, she feared for him, for his fate... She knew a broken tom could commit many unforgivable acts. Khronos was proof enough of that. Her guess was that, sooner or later, Razor would be found dead near Callista's and T-Bone's graves. But the future's not anyone's to tell...

Yes, the history Abby was going to retell was exceptional in many ways. Not only there was no need for archeological excavations to unearth past's secrets and the events related directly to the past - and present - of Megakat City but also the history - despite its age - centered on kats that only a few days ago still lived...

Her discovery of the Megalithian scrolls was likely the most important find since the Rosetta Stone and she felt she had to share with the world this peculiar chapter of History, buried deeply for its darkness. However, Dr. Sinian hoped that it could bring light to the city after all these centuries, honoring the memory of the kats she was proud to call her friends. Dr. Sinian pushed her chair a few inches closer to the monitor and began to write her article, the gleam returning to her eyes.

_Megakat City's past is as mysterious as its present is unique..._

**The End**

*Francis Bacon (1561-1626): "Nature, to be commanded, must be obeyed."


End file.
